Solstice

In the lands of my distant ancestors
the ice sings in midwinter,
pinging, crackling, and booming
in eerily beautiful counterpoint
to the northern lights swirling
across nearly perpetual darkness.

Balanced between the two,
pagan and Christian come together
as young girls parade and sing
through the streets of towns and villages,
candles atop their heads
to signify the melding
of Santa Lucia and Norse gods of old.

Fire and water,
ice and flame,
bridged by the smallest among us,
bringing hope and light
to the darkest of days,
repelling the spirits that would do harm,
and luring the return of the sun.