This is a Solstice poem for my friend, belinda ridgewood.
Below the impressionist cheese doodle is a happy holiday rant.
Tapping the Kettle
The table is laid with half a loaf.
Cauldron scraped clean, sopped with the last crust.
The last mouthful is chewed.
In a long night the fire is watched.
Fuel laid by will bring us to Eos feast.
Tapping the kettle, we sing our hopes, trim our lamps.
An empty iron vessel rings into earth and air.
Still warm stew-pot foretells empty bellies.
Under our eyelids cattle hum and keen.
Song is all we have.
Sleep is long.
One cauldron waits in darkness.
Sweet smoke rises in the nostrils of Dagda.
Stretched in quiet rows, we rest.
When I wrote this poem, I wanted to give belinda something to make her Solstice a little bit better, merry even.
When I say Happy Holidays,
I want my Pagan friends to have as much joy as they can squeeze into this day.
I want my friends to have a pleasant Chanukah, a lovely Kwanzaa and a happy Christmas.
I just want them to get as happy as they can be.
After our relatives have gone home, after the dishes are washed,
when the decorations are back in their box in the attic,
I just want you to be as happy as you can be, perhaps for a whole year.
If that isn't happening, there is always more whiskey
or something like it and just go back to bed.
I know people who want to force you to say "Merry Christmas" and if you don't say it, you suck.
Is it a good wish or a weapon?
My Christmas/Kwanzaa/Chanukah/Solstice wish is that we will not have this distraction next year, mostly because it interferes with my drinking. Good Solstice to everyone.
Happy Holidays, Happy New Year.