Persephone’s term begins the year’s dry lament
Even while nymph’s paint gold dead leaves on the cement
They force the evergreens to stay to cloak Demeter’s curse.
That steals their father, Hellios away to freeze a solemn earth.
Light begins to fade and skin begins to chill
We reap what summer made and hope our stores will fill.
Hade’s crime has buried the Earth in a silver shroud.
Across the styx she’s ferried with seeds that forced her vow.
But she will take those seeds beneath the hard chilled earth
To bless them through the winter and keep them at the hearth
The dark draws us together, perhaps there’s love in death
Perhaps it’s even better, not to know the spring yet.
If love can know patience and seeds can sleep in soil
I will not wish winter over or resent its simple toil
So to the grace a bare grey tree I will sing a lullaby
And toss my praises far and wide to the beauty of a charcoal sky.
Orla ní Dhúill 