BLESSING FOR THE LONGEST NIGHT

Thinking we could all use some beauty and light–I am sharing some of my sunset photos–taken from the edge of our neighborhood– and Jan Richardson’s Solstice poem. She is such a generous poet, sending words of comfort, companionship, and wisdom into the world.

(I have adjusted the line breaks to fit in this blog format.)

All throughout these months as the shadows have lengthened, this blessing has been
gathering itself, making ready, preparing for this night.

It has practiced walking in the dark, traveling with its eyes closed, feeling its way
by memory, by touch, by the pull of the moon even as it wanes.

So believe me when I tell you this blessing will reach you even if you have not light enough
to read it; it will find you even though you cannot see it coming.

You will know the moment of its arriving by your release of the breath you have held
so long; a loosening of the clenching in your hands, of the clutch around your heart;
a thinning of the darkness that had drawn itself around you.

This blessing does not mean to take the night away but it knows its hidden roads,
knows the resting spots along the path, knows what it means to travel in the company of a friend.

So when this blessing comes, take its hand.
Get up. Set out on the road you cannot see.

This is the night when you can trust that any direction you go,
you will be walking toward the dawn.

~ Jan Richardson ~

Prayers unceasing in whatever ways we pray/in/tend for peace.

And when we turn around… a new day is rising.