At last the Solstice!
Balanced on the turning point of winter, we celebrate the darkness and welcome the thought of the coming of the light…
WINTER HEAVENS
Sharp is the night, but stars with frost alive
Leap off the rim of earth across the dome.
It is a night to make the heavens our home
More than the nest whereto apace we strive.
Lengths down our road each fir-tree seems a hive,
In swarms outrushing from the golden comb.
They waken waves of thoughts that burst to foam:
The living throb in me, the dead revive.
Yon mantle clothes us: there, past mortal breath,
Life glistens on the river of the death.
It folds us, flesh and dust; and have we knelt,
Or never knelt, or eyed as kine the springs
Of radiance, the radiance enrings:
And this is the soul’s haven to have felt.
Leaves & Pages 
Thank you, L&P, for posting this lovely poem by such a wonderful (& underrated) English writer. Seasons Greetings to all & Best Wishes for a peaceful & prosperous 2015!
And thank you, BR, for your many kind words to me this year. Your personal messages were appreciated more than I can say.
George Meredith is on my radar as someone to investigate in more depth in the future; your post on him was most intriguing. I’ve been looking over the books which have been quietly accumulating for attention in 2015, and though I know I’ll be frittering much time away on “light reading”, I also will be spending some time with the under-appreciated “very good” and “great” writers of the past.
All the best to you in the New Year!
Wow – what an amazing poem. Thanks and have a wonderful Christmas.
Isn’t that something? A perfect piece of poetry.
Merry Christmas to you and yours, Harriet. I have so greatly enjoyed our contact this year, and I’m happily looking forward to what the next year brings in books and “book friends”!
Absolutely beautiful!
Wonderful, isn’t it? So glad you enjoyed it.
Thank you for your inspiring Meredith, dear L&P.
Hereby my this year’s Christmas poem, you miss the print as I have no adress to send it to, so alas, as email:
To the New Year
With what stillness at last
you appear in the valley
your first sunlight reaching down
to touch the tips of a few
high leaves that do not stir
as though they had not noticed
and did not know you at all
then the voice of a dove calls
from far away in itself
to the hush of the morning
so this is the sound of you
here and now wether or not
anyone hears it this is
where we have come with our age
our knowledge such as it is
and our hopes such as they are
invisible before us
untouched and still possible
W.S. Merwin
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year
Thank you, Marijke – this is wonderful! I think I will share it on the blog – for New Year’s Day, I think. Perfect.