On this, the last day of November, I am minded to look forward to the turning of the season. First, two ‘shorts’, written in the past, around this time of year.
ABOVE
Black sky above me
Pierced with impersonal sparks
Glittering
The whole firmament shimmering
As if shaken lightly by some giant hand
I stare and wonder, are they unaware
Up there
Of me gazing up; shaken up
By the enormity of it’s infinity
WINTER SOLSTICE
Starry starry night
A myriad dots of light
Glitter in a sky of navy blue
North westerly clouds scud past
Shape changing, swirling fast
The wind howls softly through
The bare branched elms
And stark stripped sycamore
The month of November has, justifiably, got a bad reputation. That well known poem ‘November’ by Thomas Hood, comprehensively describes the general malaise, with it’s modern title SAD (Seasonal Affected Disorder) brought on by long dark days and, usually, bad bad weather. This year hasn’t helped to allay that impression.
And yet, and yet . . as the Winter Solstice approaches in the Northern hemisphere, the general population look forward to celebrating the turning of the season, the gradual lightening of the skies; the pagan festivals subsumed into our modern belief and holy holidays. We continue the rituals of feast after famine, the songs after the silence of the long months dedicated to keeping ourselves alive; and even the most miserable among us can feel that raising of the spirits, as relatives and friends venture forth to meet and share the celebrations with family and community.
This involuntary stirring of ancient instinct is to be encouraged. Despite the ubiquity of modern communication, it feels as if relationships in our modern world are becoming more divorced from trying to find and achieve those shared aims. We seem to be drifting further away from achieving positive results to the obvious problems that need to be ‘sorted’ for the good of all.
INSTINCT EXTINCTION
Does humankind no longer recognize
Those instinctive reactions
Instinct for recognizing change is now replaced
By human gadgetry. It makes an empty space
Between the natural rhythms of the seasons
And we ignore or justify the reasons
For forgetting that which once was always known
That (unfinished) poem has been burgeoning in my brain for some time. But I’m not convinced that it comprehensively expresses my ‘instinctive’ reaction to the checks and balances put in the way of understanding and accepting what has gone before; with the connections to our ancient forgotten knowledge that have been severed; and which were once so necessary to our ancestors survival and continuity.
I believe that we need to rediscover the importance of instinct to the human race today. We forget what has gone before at our peril; and I predict that this will be a subject I shall be covering, with much more detail, in a future post.