Another Year's End

Late December in Georgia feels no different than early October in Maryland. It has been difficult to remember that Christmas is just around the corner. You know, like, in two days. And although we made winter crowns to celebrate the Solstice, the official turning of the seasons, it hasn't really felt like winter. We put up lights and a tree way back in the beginning of the month, and for that day felt rather festive. And another day I did most of my Christmas shopping downtown. But I was only wearing my light jacket and didn't even need gloves. So I didn't get Christmas cards done and I'm still working on finishing presents that I am making by hand. Because how can it possibly be Christmas without wet cold settling into your bones and the hope for snow? How can it possibly be winter in a place with palm trees? But the days are at their shortest, the nights their longest, and the sun hugs the horizon in its march across the heavens. So I can't help but remember the December, now two years past when I was trying to prepare to leave Ireland and failing miserably because it wouldn't stop being ruggedly beautiful. So here's a poem snippet (perhaps to be expanded later, perhaps to stay this way) about falling in love and not wanting to be parted. Inspired by Leanne O'Sullivan's book poetry book, Cailleach: The Hag of Beara. (She is the best Irish poet I have ever read, hands down. Also, you may wish to investigate the Hag of Beare legends/poems. My favourite not in O'Sullivan's collection is one from the ninth century by an anonymous author just entitled 'The Hag of Beare', as modern-English-ized by John Montague in The Book of Irish Verse.)

 

The Hag of Beara

Cradling your rocks in my hands,

I am weighed down to the point

that I must become barnacle

or risk crumbling to sand and

being washed away from you.

~