SUMMER'S LIGHT IN THE LABRYINTH

It is high noon, the sun overhead

sites the labyrinth, paths progressing

both deosil and widdershins,

moving forward, looking back.

Buttercups, light filled yellow goblets,

(more an elixir than a heady brew)

ground-cling, nestling roots clay-deep,

while a few reach skyward, brush thighs.

Their pollen, potent carriers of the life force,

grace my legs as I continue the circular walk,

inward, aiming for the still centre

like dawn rising at the Summer Solstice.

But it is high noon, the sun at its height,

my time as well, to move outward,

retread the path amid tall cups of light,

prepared now to give who I am, here, this poem.

 

Kaaren Whitney

Summer Solstice 2006

 

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