Winter Solstice reflections about life in the light

Posted on December 22, 2022 by Michelle Garren Flye

Yesterday was an important day that often goes unnoticed. In the Northern Hemisphere, it was the darkest day of the year. Winter Solstice.

Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve loved the idea of the Winter Solstice. I remember my mother always marked it. She was one of those people whose mood is affected by the light. The darkness of winter depressed her, so the Winter Solstice was a time of change for the good. Because every day after would be brighter. The days are getting longer now, she’d say in the hopeful voice I loved to hear.

Yesterday was a good day for me. I almost forgot it was the shortest day of the year because it seemed bright. Good news, new music, a great day at my store and time with my kids…when I looked at my watch and saw it was almost time for the solstice, though, I knew I needed to mark it. Because every chance I get to make things brighter, I need to take it.

So at 4:48 p.m. I lit a candle. I burned it until midnight and I tried to picture my life…brighter. I came up with two resolutions.

I will hope without reason.

I will love without expectation.

I think if I can hold onto these two resolutions, I can live a brighter life. Too often we wait for life to give us a reason to hope. If we can just hold hope in our hearts, we can live in the light more often. I don’t know what you hope for. I’m sometimes not even certain what I hope for. But I know without hope for something, we might as well curl up and die. So hope.

And loving without expectation is something we all struggle with, I think. I’ve always found it easy to love…things, people, places, pets, food. But in loving, I too often expect something in return. I have a plan in mind for my love, a path it should follow, rewards I should get in return for it, whatever. But I don’t control the object of my love, so I cannot control the results of my love and am often disappointed. Love itself has to be the reward, and if I can achieve that, I will surely live brightly.

I’m sure these two resolutions are not unique. Buddha or Gandhi probably came up with them long ago. Perhaps this is what they tried to teach me in Sunday School when I was a child. Is this what faith is? Or is it just the ramblings of a middle-aged would-be poet? You decide. It won’t matter to me. I’ll be over here hoping for a brighter future and loving you.

I’ll be in the light if you’d like to join me.

Poem: The Death of a Thousand Cuts

Posted on June 7, 2020 by Michelle Garren Flye

The Death of a Thousand Cuts

By Michelle Garren Flye

She’s whole, pure, beautiful

When she steps out into the world,

And the first cut is kind of pitiful—

She barely notes the blood pearl.

The second comes out of nowhere—

Perhaps from the company she keeps?

She bandages it up with great care,

But no one hears when she weeps.

Third, fourth and fifth go deeper—

Needing more than a few stitches.

She covers them with a sweater

And cries until her breath hitches.

By the twentieth, she’s beyond care.

The blood splotches the floor in drips.

She armors herself to prepare

For the constant onslaught of whips.

She’ll go on and on and on

Into a world full of attacks.

She feels like an automaton,

Just surviving all the whacks.

A hundred, two hundred, more

And the armor barely dulls

The sting of each strike before

Silence falls in the rarest of lulls.

She wonders what each blow takes.

Is it blood or faith that she bleeds?

God, religion, nation—each forsakes

And their call she no longer heeds.

It’s cruel what life does to you—

How it parades and poses and struts.

In the end it’ll take you, it’s true,

By the death of a thousand cuts.

Poem: Pinned

Posted on February 1, 2019 by Michelle Garren Flye

Pinned

By Michelle Garren Flye

Pins hurt, I remember. Pins stick in your skin when you put on a new shirt without checking. Crimson stains on ivory.

Why pin each other, then? Why pin those we love? Stay here. That’s your spot.

It hurts.

Why pin those unlike us? Stick them with scarlet letters. You’re not us. Stay away.

It hurts.

We do it anyway. Jab into flesh until blood comes. Pins like Judgment, like nails on the cross. Us. Other. With us, against us. Pins line up, sharpened stakes to keep us in or push us out.

I hold one in my hand, a dagger to slash and judge. Watch. The blood waits, pulsing, just beneath the sin.

Jesus walked into the Supreme Court

Posted on October 4, 2018 by Michelle Garren Flye

Jesus Walked Into the Supreme Court

By Michelle Garren Flye

Jesus walked into the Supreme Court. Today was the day the latest justice would be confirmed, and He felt sure this was where he needed to be. All eight current justices were dressed in black, their robes and faces matching in their sobriety.

“Surely today is a good day,” said Jesus to one, a black man with a reflective look in his eyes.

“Not today.” The black man shook his head. “Today, we confirm that we never learned anything.” He looked at Jesus sadly, and Jesus knew what this man’s thoughts were. That he hadn’t always been a good man. That he had made others uncomfortable, had even laughed at them. But this man had worked hard for many years to live down his faults. Now, faced by one who had done worse, he felt the weight of his sins again.

Jesus placed a hand on the black man’s. “The days will be better. Some day.”

The black man smiled but he turned away. Jesus looked at another man, a man with silver hair. He was the last justice to be appointed to this court. He wasn’t a bad man, either. He had strong opinions and beliefs and they sometimes colored his judgments, but he tried hard. He looked at Jesus. “What are you doing here?” he said. “There’s not much you can do here today.”

“I can’t do much here any day.” Jesus sat next to the man. “That’s up to you.”

The silver haired man nodded and looked at his hands as if he wished he could find answers there. The others seemed not to know Jesus was there. All but one, an old woman with deep hollows in her cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. She looked at Jesus with caution. “You’re not here to take me, are you?”

“Not yet.” Jesus patted the bench beside Him. “I think you have work to do yet.”

The old woman sat down and crossed her wrinkled, old hands in her lap. “For once,” she said, “you and I agree.”

Poem: Take a Knee

Posted on June 7, 2018 by Michelle Garren Flye

For the #KneelingMan. I heard you. My heart believes in you. #TakeAKnee.

Take a Knee

By Michelle Garren Flye

Red and White and Blue and White,

Symbol of long-forgotten bravery—

Of men who fought and men who died

For our right to be free…

To take a knee.

Salute no star whose unworthy light

Shines on the path of treachery.

Beware the stripes of men who delight

And celebrate their criminality.

Just take a knee.

What is a flag when democracy fails?

When leaders grub for riches at the feet

Of a false idol who demeans and defiles

All that once made us great?

No. Take a knee.

Take a knee, say a prayer

That God can save us now.

Plead forgiveness—

Your head must bow.

Simply take a knee.

Ephesians 3:14 “For this reason I bow my knees before the Father.”

Poem: He Asked the Moon

Posted on February 1, 2018 by Michelle Garren Flye

I often try to make sense of world events and reconcile them with a belief in a higher power with little actual success. For the past month the news has been reporting about the super blue blood moon as if it were either apocalyptic or the answer to all our prayers. I wasn’t fooled. I’ve been taken by that sort of thing before. It’s just a moon in the end.

But it made me think, and when I think, I often write. And so in honor of yesterday’s super blue blood (on the West coast) moon, and dedicated to anyone who’s ever wished on the moon with my sympathy: