‘Twas the night of the Solstice, and all through our house,
Not a light was left burning, as the sun sank down.
Our Yule log was sat, just ready to light,
As we celebrated our move through longest night.
As darkness settled over us all with a sigh,
We stood silently remembering the year gone by.
The dreary and cheery, the good with the bad,
We’d been brightly happy, we’d been very sad.
My husband then bent to put match to wood,
But the wind blew it out before he could.
So again he tried, and again he was hindered
It seemed that our Yule log would not be tindered.
When out of the forest a light could be seen,
And a red-bearded giant walking as out of a dream.
He smiled as he approached with torch born in hand,
And something in his face told me he was no simple man.
He offered us his light to begin our fire,
And soon our house glowed, a sight to inspire.
We offered him food, ale, and a warm place to rest,
And he laughingly offered us his food instead.
“Come dip your bowls in my cauldron so full.
I’ve plenty to share, though the ale would be good.”
We ate and we laughed, we danced and we sang,
And on a fine oaken harp, he continuously played.
When he shared with us wisdom, he appeared wizened and old,
When he told tales of victory, he was vital and bold.
And while laughter rolled from his mouth unabating,
There was the fire in his eyes, of possible temper forever waiting.
This man I knew, my heart cried with joy,
Though his face I’d never laid eyes on before.
But when She came walking from out of the night,
I knew without question, this was a blessed sight.
“Now you must go, there is much to be done,”
To Him she said, “We have work to do with the return of the sun.”
Her voice was like music, like a babbling brook,
And as I offered her wine, my hands they shook.
She accepted the wine and she gently touched my face,
“Thank you for always welcoming Us to this place.
The blessings We have, Our gifts to you.
Bounty and blessings, and sight always true.”
So He rose to His feet with a grumble and sigh,
He patted my head and said His goodbyes.
“No finer a party could I have hoped to find,
I’m not surprised it was thrown by one of Mine.”
As They moved into the night, my heart felt it would break,
She’d been only a moment, and there was still time before the day would wake.
“Dear Mother, please wait! And Father, you, too!
Without You here, what shall we do?”
She turned to me again, with a gentle smile upon Her face,
“Dear child, we don’t actually leave this place.
Forever where you walk, Our footfalls will, too,
Because We are in all things, especially you.”
Into darkness They vanished, but my heart was at ease.
They were still there with us, in our hearts, the night and the trees.
And as the sun peaked over the horizon we knew,
We had spent our Solstice with the Dagda and Danu.