The Wheel Turns

The darkness eats at my soul
Wears away at the last remaining
Sunshine.
Every year, the bleakness,
Tiredness.
November.
When I exist
To subsist.
After Ancestors’ visit,
Sunset colours light mid-day skies.
The wheel turns,
Winter begins.

When the Holly is cut,
The Mistletoe, too,
And the Fir comes inside
For a night or two,
We light the darkness
With candle glow.
Make bearable
Yearning for sun
at Mid-Winter,
When the young stag
Crowned with rack-like Oak
Makes us watch the light
Once more,
Seeking every moment,
In the sky,
In our minds,
In our spirits,
As the wheel turns
And Winter ends.

Until that moment
I shall wrap myself
In Fir boughs and lanterns
To ward off the dark,
The downward spiral
Of torment,
Of life.
I shall wrap myself in dreams
Of the light to come,
Until the Dark Ages’ end
Is seen in Snowdrops
On crisp mornings,
Appearing in Oak leaves
Fallen last year.
Until I can breathe
The crispness,
Cleansing,
Clearing,
Knowing that
The wheel has turned
Once more.

– Kat Pagett

To all of you … Blessed Yule and Happy Solstice. I hope the sunshine’s return brings you joy and love.

2 thoughts on “The Wheel Turns

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