WINTER SOLSTICE AT NEWGRANGE
from “Buildings of the Season” by John M Johansen
In darkness and in cold
uphill we grope toward the passage tomb
of the legendary Kings of Tara.
Still honored and celebrated there
as having lived and died and hopefully reborn
to another life unknown
yet surely in the company of gods.
Before the light of day, this mighty mound
is silhouette against a dawning sky.
We enter, compelled by unknown powers.
Through the passage, flanked by heroic upright stones
and spanned by a corbelled roof,
we move with trepidation and in awe.
Guided only by our sense of touch
our fingers trace, in Braille, curvilinear patterns
chiseled on stark surfaces;
symbols whose meaning five thousand years ago
are long since lost to us.
Deep in that great mound of Earth
we reach the chamber of the dead.
There we wait in dark and deathly silence
for the moment; for Nature 's great performance to unfold.
The moment now has come.
Our breath is short; our pulse is quick;
in space and time suspended.
for along the passage floor we 've trod
a straight, sharp beam of light injects itself;
piercing, full depth of passage
to strike the altar stone
in that innermost chamber.
The chamber now is a flood of light.
Those of Tara witnessed this and saw the sun,
as masculine generator of life;
penetrating this vaginal passage
to touch Gaia 's uterine altar
in immaculate conception.
Encased within that rock bound womb,
for a moment we are seeds awakened
to further germination to another life as well.
Released from this birth passage
we emerge to our mundane life.
Yet now we look upon it differently
reborn we are with clear insight.
As for the legendary Kings of Tara
who sought rebirth from death,
there may be for us, the living, rebirth within while here.
At Winter Solstice, may we join
our humankind, of five thousand years ago,
in that eternal act of faith:
that for each year, each life, our Earth, their purpose not in vain,
there will be a death for each in time
yet will be life again..
