Winter solstice.
The rebirth of the sun
and the slow,
slow return of the light.
‘Tis the season to turn inward
stoke the fires
nourish
snuggle
reflect
rest.
The time to tend our roots
that will feed the blooms
yet to come.
Sip broth of bone, fat and root
and simmer yourself right down
to the bottom of the pot.
Revel in beeswax-lit lullabies
the smell of old books
and teakettle conversations.
Tuck yourself in and hibernate
in the sweet blanket of darkness
in moonlit snow
in the long cold nights.
Take some time
to slow down and stop
doing
doing
doing
and
just be.
Undress the heaviness
from your bones
and dance with your ghosts.
Sink your teeth into this long night.
Let the moon howl at you
and slowly sing you back
from shadow
to light.