The Tree, the Star, the Tear
What the Winter Solstice is for: to brood and groan and mutter our way into the longest night of the year…
But some days are bad and some years are even worse: I lost my sister and two close elders this year. Over half my immediate family are gone and some days I can barely stand it. But that is what the Winter Solstice is for: to brood and groan and mutter our way into the longest night of the year like an old ship riding the night sea, hawsers and the old bones moaning against the cold.
Every year I write a poem for the Winter Solstice. It sounds like you could use a poem. I give this one to you, dear old friend.
The Tree, the Star, the Tear
There are worse griefs than mine—can
you imagine—yes, of course, we all can,
too often do—we give where we can.
Are you like me? Do you balance every day
on the thin skin of a tear? Do you, every day,
struggle for the smile? Deny that tear—every day?
Do you say, every day, how lucky you are?
In spite of grief, you know how lucky you are.
Nothing's bleeding—look! How lucky you are!
We'll both do what people do, as always—
choose a brighter star and reach, as always,
out to cheer another—we MUST love, as always.
We must raise the shining Tree and pretend
our hearts are not balanced on that tear—pretend
because we KNOW that Star is real, and not pretend.
This poem speaks to how I felt this past year — so often sad, missing Cheryl and Cindy, yet also grateful for my many years with them, and grateful for the many blessings in my life. This dark season always makes me think of Cheryl and how she longed for the return of longer days. I used to look forward to your collaborative Solstice cards, with her art and your poetry. Thank you, thank you, for continuing with the poetry tradition!
This is a touching poem, indeed. Solstice— a return of the light— is more poignant when contrasted with the sorrows of the year. As I leave the woes of 2024 behind, I look forward to turning my face to the sun with you and Peter and my beloved on the 21st.