Winter's Night

One of the more memorable visions of my life came on a cold night on the shore of a mountain lake somewhere in Colorado. The temperature is -15°; snow squeaks loudly under boots. I watch the constellation Orion, near dawn, in crystalline air. Diamond dust falls sparkling in starlight. The land is frozen and dark. The Hunter casts arrows, trailing flaming stars, toward Sol rising on his golden throne to the east.

Words come to me, an ancestral prayer, beseeching the warrior for aid in resurrecting

the life-giving sun at this dark time of the year, else we starve. We must have light.

Winter’s Night

Orion! Orion! Bring your bow!

Across thousands of years

You have trailed the sun who this night of nights

Has fallen with our fears

Into the frozen, starlit snow

Orion! Orion! Bring your bow!

The tracks are faint

Marking Sol’s flight to peril’s darkened gate

Follow, O’ Mighty Hunter, while time stands still

For the Light of Lights is all we know

Orion! Orion! Bring your bow!

The moment is nigh to capture your prey

Your arrows must streak, and sword drawn, sing

Now! Rekindle the fire of Summer’s Day

And strike life to the seeds we sow.

* This of course is not the known myth of Orion; you will have to find that elsewhere. I was merely an observer.