Poem by Bob Beane - "Woodstoves, Whoopie Pies and the Solstice"

 

In these days of falling temps and cold clear air

With that inner heat of anticipation

For the coming holidays, coursing through ourselves

That almost frantic activity of expecting

To be everywhere, at the same time.

To try to please everyone, at the same time,

And in doing so perhaps, forgetting the original purpose of the day.

We occasionally stop, to remember other things that are peaceful to us.

We welcome that radiating heat from the woodstoves.

The crackling sounds from the fire within it that are so deeply soothing.

The ticking sounds of the iron and steel as it comes up to temperature.

The room slowly filling with the warmed up air.

This becomes a welcome part

Of our morning chores.

To sit in front of the fire with our morning coffee.

Those requests from long distance friends.

Can you send me some of your Red Velvet Whoopie Pies?

The planning an shopping.

Then that long afternoon of bustling around the kitchen while cooking,

Bringing with it those associated smells and wonderful aromas.

Quickly boxing them up, followed by that trip to the UPS store.

The worry about whether they will make it alright.

The calls from far away that give us such a deep pleasure,

They arrived fine and are already being shared and eaten with great relish.

That special ancient celebration that has come down to us from people’s

Who lived many thousands of years ago.

That moment of the longest night of the year,

For those of us in this Northern Hemisphere.

That silent marker that sets the seasons between Fall and Winter.

Celebrated with a quiet meditation while joining with thousands of others

To ask our Spirit Guides for World Peace and an end to violence everywhere,

Hopefully, wishfully in our lifetime.

A welcoming to Father Sun as he begins his journey northward again.

Spring is “just around the corner.”