Is almost here.
The light lingers deep
in these northern woods,
as if moonlight itself
weren’t enough this time of year.
We know the science – how the angle
or attitude presented toward the sun
allows more light and heat
to penetrate our atmosphere –
not unlike sperm penetrating an egg.
It’s the religion that intrigues
and mystifies – stone circles
placed in line with sunrise or set,
a capstone pointed at the spot
the sun rises on a given day:
Solstice. A touch of the old world, then –
we dance and hold our breath
hoping we can reach back into
our own beginnings with this ritual
at the expense of a goat, virgin, child.
We chant, sacrifice,
fall to our knees and pray
to know the secret.
The sun flares and burns on,
illuminating the night sky ‘til dawn.