Suffolk Solstice By Wendy Alford July/Oct. 2011
The procession slips across the meadow
senses acute to birdsong,
blades of grass and buttercups.
Minds and bodies meld,
feet asking, earth giving,
all is opening in preparation.
Legs bend, leaning, to climb the bank,
walk along barrow shaped ridge,
amidst darkening trees to a mound.
Encircling energy through joined hands,
quietly spoken words, stir
into wakefulness something deep.
The circle breaks, threads its way
back towards the brightness,
returning to field’s swish of long grass
puffing off seeds as legs brush
past, till halting at the place,
the sacred space, of prayer and song.
Reforming the circle, the many become one
as breathing and heartbeat synchronize, the ritual begins:
And the light in our minds goes round and round
and the warmth in our feet comes up through the ground
as the sun goes in and the rain comes down
reciting of poems and passing the crown
through chanting and prayer we harness the power
pledges are given with herb and flower
Air, Earth and Water are honoured in turn
whilst Fire at the centre and incense burn.
The rhythm slows, bread and mead
are passed around, eyes raised to pale sky,
with final thanks for the wonder of creation,
eternal cycles, the Sun’s gift of life.
The ring breaks, uncoils,
green headdress hung on a bough.
Ritual players separate, then come together
as friends, share food and conversation,
before going different ways;
a connection remains,
invisible strands flickering through
the warm air, as the Earth turns.
Thank you to Bernie Bell for sending this in
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