I originally published this piece on December 24, 2015. I vaguely remembered having written it. I didn’t remember at all having published it. But I’m glad I found it. I offer it now with even more fervent hope that we might recognize its universal truth, that we might share its hopeful intent, and that we might take every word of it to heart.
Bearing in mind that The Hero With a Thousand Faces, From Ritual to Romance, and The Golden Bough are among the most influential books in my life, I offer this reflection, with apologies to real poets everywhere:
The venerable holidays are fast upon us now.
The world’s religions all diverge. Yet we unite somehow
To celebrate the length’ning days that warm the dormant Earth,
To sing the silent song that hails this season of rebirth.
‘Tis nothing but our being that compels this inner hymn:
Our roots in nascent verdancy dispose us, life and limb,
To mind the rhythms of our spirits, even if unknowing,
Attuned to universal truths and Nature’s sweet bestowing.
So, “What to do?” we ask ourselves, as if some trick eludes,
As if the joyous reverence that each of us exudes
Beyond the winter solstice is a mystery. It’s not.
No Alexander need bisect the legendary knot
Of Gordius, the sage Greek king. Instead, let us rejoice.
Let all of us the planet wide conjoin, as if one voice,
To share the joy and grace this season harbors in our hearts.
May each and ev’ry one of us pay homage to the parts
We play in one reality, one common explanation,
One mutual communion that denies our separation.
We are of one humanity. Let each of us be sworn
To joining in this moment of fertility reborn.
It doesn’t matter what you call the holiday you celebrate. Just celebrate.
Please. Celebrate.
—
Image by jplenio, courtesy of pixabay.com.
