Note: Here is a poem, which came to me in worship, to celebrate the Winter Solstice. - Lucy

The snow is melting, the air is crisp

I sit in meeting for worship

Notice the ticking of the clock

A siren screeches

The benches creak

Bodies situate them selves

Resting their bones

Taking a breath, waiting

 

The noise revs up in my head

The ‘to do’ list, the moments I said the wrong thing, the news of a friend’s illness

The awareness of all the walls we erect to keep what will heal us out


I let the clamor go by, I settle

Underneath the din, I reach the interior

I exhale and feel the sorrow

 

For the pain of the lost city

For communities denied love

For ancestors with hearts of stone

For all the armor that must fall away for peace

 

My heart races, I stand and speak, my voice shakes

 

“Hold still, feel the turbulence of creation

The silence of snowThe old world is crumbling

The Light is on the edge of slumber

Lend your hands to the labor

Midwife the spiritual birth.”

 

I sit, still shaken

My heart lies down

A hush encircles us

A sparrow trills outside the open door