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| Photo by NASA |
When language was young, when even the gods and goddesses had not yet entirely taken human form but still ran with the deer in the forest, or flew with the wings of crows, or were glimpsed the depths of a numinous pool........ even then, I think this was a holy day. The Sun was returning to the sleeping world.
Fires were lit to welcome the Shining One returning from the underworld. Stones aligned with the Sun's journey made a pathway, and food and drink were left to give the young god strength. Perhaps they danced through the long cold night, helping him on his way, keeping vigil.
Fires were lit to welcome the Shining One returning from the underworld. Stones aligned with the Sun's journey made a pathway, and food and drink were left to give the young god strength. Perhaps they danced through the long cold night, helping him on his way, keeping vigil.
I pledge allegiance
to the soil of Turtle Island,
and to the beings
who thereon dwell
one ecosystem in diversity
under the sun
With joyful
interpenetration for all.
Gary Snyder
THE SHORTEST DAY
BY SUSAN COOPER
So the shortest day came, and the year died,
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive,
And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us—Listen!!
All the long echoes sing the same delight,
This shortest day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome Yule!
