Christiana Aro-Harle

I see Sun standing still

A shadow to follow on the face of my wall

I mark the place

Day in, Day out 

Over years.

I see Sun passing through

A late rising farther in the southeast

A fast setting farther southwest

I mark her coming and going in the white snow blanket

With the shadows of Tree

I think of ancestors long ago

Somehow exploding off of some foremother

Making me

And them watching the skies

Looking below 

All other beings growing, sleeping, waiting

Hard under and over

How did they think of this time?

Was it Sun who stood still – hands on hip

In a cup, between the antler pair, between beak? 

Saying back I come to you?

Maybe way back when 

When Earth, when She was Mistress and we knew all beings

Were from her and returned to her 

Before we became Sun-centred

Fold upon fold, layer upon layer, reed upon weed, fluid stone 

Turning to dust, water clearing and moving, sitting and waiting in frozen crystals 

Foot and feather tracks, roots and branches, fins and cups, armoured scales and fur, tufts and clumps, sod and silt, one-leg, no-leg, two-leg, four-leg, thousand-leg, six-leg, eight-leg – ALL

Maybe way back when when She was Mistress

All Life magnetised between these two

And they knew that they stood still at this one moment

Gazing at one another, wondering, longing, questioning their relationship, pulling on ancient old agreements of Life and Transformation, 

Spinning of fruiting, freezing, seeding, raining, drying, returning to soil

Earth in her skirts all present, no one leaving, only changing. 

Water is there there is no more.

Soil there is there is no more.

Air there is there is no more.

Maybe way back when the monoliths and bear stones,

Maybe way way back then when tors and stone circles, menhirs and mounds

When fogous and quoits, water paths and springs were the way of the watching, measuring, reflecting and seeing all our faces?

Human hands built and watched, danced and measured with footstep, sunrise and set. Measured with hand held wood pieces, with bone and stone, depth and shallow.

Slowly learning and finding the way Earth stood still and for a couple of turns thought Why do I return?

Maybe way back when

We knew maybe way back when that we needed to convince Earth to keep holding hands with Sun, and swing a return 

And we knew that if we danced, sang, sprouted wings and feathers, grew antlers, gave words of endearment, fed and feasted one another we played out the longing and desiring of Earth and Sun

For one another

To swing around

Spin around 

Return Light

Relish the last darkness that is such fertile soil 

And try one more time

To get Life right….