Solstice Fire 🔥
The frost grips the hawthorn and dormant briar,
As the Goddess of Winter holds court in the sky;
But deep in the hearth, a flickering fire
Reflects the ancient light drawing nigh.
No longer the shadows retreat and expand,
The wheel of the seasons has come to its rest;
A stillness descends on this green, sacred land,
Through the trees I planted to the bird in its nest.
Then comes the dawn, a thin ribbon of gold,
Piercing the mist where my parents once trod;
The story of rebirth, as ancient as old,
Waking the life in the dark, silent sod.
The sacred light dances on Bealtaine’s floor,
A golden intruder in Winter’s cold hall;
The sun has returned to the cottage’s door,
To herald the spring and the rise of us all.
Colette O’Neill
22 December 2025