The winter solstice comes again,
Darkest day of this dark year,
The sun sets brightly and night falls
Although the day is in its prime;
And will there be a healing time?
Within the dark oblivion calls
And hardly seems a thing to fear
But rather something to attain,
So wretched does the world appear,
How little of it now enthralls
With rulers compromised by crime,
The very air a hostile clime
And natural chaos still appalls;
But when the year turns, might this clear?
Will spring revive the heartbeat then,
Bring hope to those now in despair
And sustenance to hungry souls,
Transform the wretched to sublime,
The formless to the paradigm,
Turn us again towards our goals,
Water and earth to fire and air
And dust and ashes back to men?
GGL December 1990