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Midwinter

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Midwinter

Poetry for the Changing of the Sun

A. Christine Myers
Jan 2
2
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Midwinter

achristinemyers.substack.com

I would like to wish all my readers a very happy new year, a very wonderful 2023!

I managed to miss posting for Christmas for a rather ridiculous reason. I had written a poem on Christmas Eve, but I was still dissatisfied with the final lines. I really wanted to include it for the holiday, so I waited a day or two to see whether I could make it sound the way I wanted it to. So rather inevitably I ended by not posting at all.

Well, to this moment I’m still dissatisfied with the end of that particular poem. It will have to go on waiting. Meantime, I have others to share, starting with one written for the winter solstice.

The winter solstice is a very special time. Even here in the desert it’s a cause for celebration to see the days begin to lengthen again and to sense the swing that brings us back closer to the sun.

But some things remain the same across time. Hence this poem.


Sonnet for a Night of Solstice

At midnight, how I saw the mighty Bear
Uplift by ancient pillars of pale green
Saguaros, slender columns scarcely seen
Where nightbound earth touches the nightbound air.
And the saguaros raise the stars to where
They ramp across the midnight’s somber sheen
To hang upon the solstice like a screen
Behind the night and day.  The stars’ soft flare
Eternal lies behind the ebb and flow
Of waning day and waxing night,
Of winter sunrise, tremulous of glow,
And glories of the moon as she takes flight.
The ancient guardians of the desert know
Behind all things the stars are still alight.


Nights are indeed beautiful, with their mix of frosty skies and distant stars.

Look up at midnight.
Stars are dancing through the clouds,
rainbows round the moon.


And here is a simple tale of dawn. This was the morning of 31 December, to be precise.

Midwinter’s Dawn

Far to the south, the start of day
Is tinting just the edge of gray
To the soft hue of ripened peach–
Not yet the rising, ray on ray,
But just new colors, each on each.
Next comes the first excited speech
Of birds, the tentative quick word
Spoke to the last of night when screech
Of owl has just been heard
A few heartbeats before the bird
Suggests that day has opened there.
And then a second and a third
Join in to test the chilly air,
And swiftly choirs of voices share
The certainty of day. And still
There’s just a touch of the sun’s flare
Along the south and eastern hills;
The color rises there to fill
The lightened gray with palest blue.

So little’s changed since that first trill
Or even the first change of hue,
And yet the clouds have come in view,
For to the west they’re wafting white
Along a sky that’s still imbued
With the last tinctures of the night,
While to the east the sky is light
Behind the rose and gray that drift
Like smoke along the mountains’ height.
And now the spread of light is swift.
Far to the south the colors shift;
A line of trees stands black and bold
Where the first rays have come to lift
The brilliance of their sudden gold.
As yet a glimmer in the cold,
A glistering of rays have spun
Their gleam where now the night is old
Indeed. Now all the gray is done
To whispered blue; but still the sun
Lies hid beneath his golden spray,
For yet the dawn is just begun.


I hope each of you have had a very happy holiday season, and again I wish you all the best in the coming year!

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Midwinter

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