It sounds so appealing
a time of revelry,
crackling bonfires,
staying up all night
to witness the dawn.
Why do we celebrate
this longest day
of the year
as if endless hours
of daylight
and a scorching
sun star encompass
a gift of unparalleled grace?
I miss the shadows
that define sharp edges,
reveal form and depth,
of flat mesas, mountains
deep blue sky,
clouds that hold promise
of muted gray and soaking rains.
Too much light
bleaches the earth
of her vibrancy, washing
out sage and emerald green.
Red dirt turns dull brown
as wildflowers wither.
Streams and rivers
surrender their souls
as precious moisture
rises.
Wily lizards scurry
for cover
under the fierce heat
of this unrelenting white star.
The birds stop singing by noon.
Too much light
ushers in self
and other destruction
encouraging frantic action –
noise that shatters.
Unhinging
“being” from doing,
destroying quiet moments
for thoughtful reflection.
The summer solstice sun is
a delusional veil
that separates us
from ourselves.
I look forward
to the day after this turning
with profound relief,
because even though
summer’s harsh light will
linger well into August
and the heat will drone on
the sun is slowly losing
his fearsome power
creating space
for turquoise and golden skies.
In the shelter of longer shadows,
illuminated by reflective Light,
She Rises with the Moon.
(Meet Mago Contributor) Sara Wright.