Poem for the Darkness and Silence of Winter Solstice

Here's a poem I wrote many years ago. The poem seems pretty bleak--at first. But in the end it's a poem about Hope returning. Our days are very short and very dark right now. And I find the silence unnerving. Where is all the bird song? Where is the joyful cacophony?

Of course Christmas is coming. And we celebrate with lights and music and presents. And more than presents, we celebrate with our "presence" to each other.

I think in the darkness and silence, we need to light lights and candles, bring flowers and green into the house, and stay close to our family and friends. Otherwise . . .

Winter Solstice

The chill creeps into the bones:

December 21 and sun gone long before 5 o’clock;

huge gray clouds roll in off Lake Erie

riding the Witch’s gale, spitting sleet and

fears as real and as organized as the swirl

of pin oak leaves down Lakeshore Boulevard.

This day, shaken by nameless fears,

seems to last forever:

I wonder how I will get through the next minute,

and the minute after that,

and the minute after that,

wonder if I can make it

until hope returns

until peace-which-surpasses-understanding,

as mysterious as winter solstice’s fear--

my heart standing still, turning cold,

my spirit abandoned--

until peace returns like grace like unexpected

gift.

                       Robert M. Coughlin