Winter Solstice: A Poem

December 30, 2022
Glenn Hughes
Creative & Poetry

I am sixty-six years old, there
is no cure for that.
Another
winter solstice
observed and waved off,
the days are brief,
and icy.
Meister Eckhart,
I can’t hear the laughter you say
the Trinity is,
but can raise my head
of white hair
and follow your advice:
do the next thing.

Glenn Hughes

Glenn Hughes (1951-2024) was Professor Emeritus of Philosophy at St. Mary’s University in Texas. He was author of numerous books, most recently From Dickinson to Dylan: Visions of Transcendence in Modernist Literature (Missouri, 2020). He was also co-editor, with Charles R. Embry, of The Eric Voegelin Reader: Politics, History, Consciousness (Missouri, 2017).

Winter Solstice: A Poem

I am sixty-six years old, there
is no cure for that.
Another
winter solstice
observed and waved off,
the days are brief,
and icy.
Meister Eckhart,
I can’t hear the laughter you say
the Trinity is,
but can raise my head
of white hair
and follow your advice:
do the next thing.

Glenn Hughes

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I am sixty-six years old, there is no cure for that. Another winter solstice observed and waved off, the days are brief, and icy. Meister Eckhart, I can’t hear the laughter you say the Trinity is, but can raise my head of white hair and follow your advice: do the next thing.

Glenn Hughes

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Subscribe to VoegelinView via Email

I am sixty-six years old, there
is no cure for that.
Another
winter solstice
observed and waved off,
the days are brief,
and icy.
Meister Eckhart,
I can’t hear the laughter you say
the Trinity is,
but can raise my head
of white hair
and follow your advice:
do the next thing.