Wings at Dawn

On the longest night, the shortest day,

When shadows stretch and linger long,

You earned your wings at break of dawn,

The world grew still, then sang your song.

I walked the meadows near the river,

Where frost lay white upon the ground,

And felt you there in every breath of wind,

In every moment as it passed.

The solstice holds us at the turn,

Where darkness peaks and light returns,

A threshold crossed, a season changed,

Your spirit soars while my heart yearns.

The water flowed like tears

The willows bent in reverent prayer,

And though the earth spins cold and quiet,

I felt the warmth of you still there.

Dear friend, you chose this sacred day

When all the world pauses to reflect,

When nature bows to transformation,

Your timing, perfect and correct.

Last night I lit a Yule prayer's flame,

And whispered wishes to the dark,

That you might find your peaceful passage,

That grace might guide you to embark.

And so you did, at morning's breaking,

Released into the gentle light,

My prayer received, my wish granted,

You slipped beyond with ease and grace in sight.

The meadow held your memory close,

Each leaf and branch, each tree,

Reminded me that love transcends

This mortal plane where we can't be.

So on this solstice, dark and bright,

I honor both the grief and grace,

The longest night before the dawn,

Your wings, your flight, your resting place.

The light will grow from this day forth,

And so will all the love you've sown,

Until we meet in meadows far beyond,

Where neither of us walks alone.