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 is Professor Emeritus of Philosophy (retired) at St. Mary’s University in Texas. He is author of numerous books, most recently From Dickinson to Dylan: Visions of Transcendence in Modernist Literature (Missouri, 2020). He is 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.