Winter Solstice Chant by Annie Finch

Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing, 
now you are uncurled and cover our eyes 
with the edge of winter sky 
leaning over us in icy stars. 
Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing, 
come with your seasons, your fullness, your end.

Every winter solstice 

~ from Calendar (Tupelo Press, 2003)