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Solstice Poem

The longest night
of the year
pivots, turns,
and tends
towards more
expansive light;
shutters flung gradually,
but systematically,
more open, sooner,
yawning, dawning,
teasing a slow tickle,
building, beaming broadly,
until full and bright,
like a phoenix
emerging from the ashes
swells spaciously,
into chunky rays
that at last
stretch all the way
to roses’ June zenith
with breakfasts on the porch
accompanied by birdsong
and late lit dinners are
followed by evening strolls
that align with the
actual close of day
while imperceptibly,
the fulcrum swings,
tentatively at first,
subtly stretching, and
springing back in return,
teetering tightly,
as a pendulum
rocking in place
while rotating
ever so slightly,
soothing, reversing,
lulling, distracting,
with autumn’s crisp,
golden blaze of glory
until plunging headlong
into tantalizingly tawny haze;
low lit afternoon sunsets
and cold, pitch black waking
to dim, huddled breakfasts
remembered familiar
but freshly unaccustomed;
crescendo or diminuendo
together make the music
beautiful and meaningful;
contrasts create
successful compositions;
variety reoccurring
brings focus and interest;
a value study
of light and dark
marks seasons
on its axis
swiveling, drawing us,
centered, closer, looping
like a boomerang
coming home only to be
flung back out again.

by Polly Castor
12/21/17

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