Solstice, Winter Beach
It is said, by those who study such matters,
that all that exists is made of stardust.
Every single thing, animate and inanimate, fish and flower
consists of particles from long extinguished suns.
Could God be stardust too?
Did God make the stars, or did the stars make God?
Be careful when you choose your gods.
Select that which you most revere;
that which will inspire you with awe
and wonder
and overwhelming love, for all your days.
It is the quiet time of year, the winter solstice
so I walk the beach to give thanks to the mother.
Animate or not, she is of fire and stardust forged.
The orb that gives us words for colour- cerulean, azure, aquamarine-
on this holy day is appropriately monochrome.
The sky is like the inside of a pearl.
The air is so still, even the busy waterfowl are hushed
as we rest upon the fulcrum of the year.
What tips the balance? What provides the pivot?
Is it faith or is it physics?
No matter, because if I really concentrate
I believe I can feel the exact moment of change when it all shifts.
The pendulum pauses to gather energy for the return
and we all- starfish and sunflower and me too!
standing here with feet of clay and stardust
turn, inexorably, inevitably
back to light.
