Friday, June 21, 2019

hallelujah solstice

Global Climate Strike scheduled for Friday, September 20.  Plan ahead!

I like to say that here in Maryland, just outside DC, summer lasts from May to October, meaning you could comfortably eat outside at your patio table at any time during those 6 months.  But of course, technically, summer doesn't start until June 21stish or until school is out, by which time the longest day of the year is already arrived.

In our family we celebrate the solstices (and with less established tradition the e*uinoxes).  So I know that today is called Midsummer or Litha by our neopagan friends.  I try to resist the feeling that summer has peaked before it's begun, and to remember that there are 94 whole days before the fall e*uinox (and a pause to note the rolling on of the Wheel of the Year on August 7, when neopagans observe the halfway point called Lammas)--but it's hard.

And being a teacher, it's hard to remember in May as the days lengthen to Be Here Now and enjoy those extra hours of sunlight even though "summer doesn't begin until school is out."  In fact, this year even the impending END of the school year felt uninspiring.  I kept waiting for that wide-open "Friday afternoon feeling" of weekend anticipation to take me over, and all I got was that "Sunday evening feeling" of dread and anxiety that summer will soon be over and school will start all over again.  *SIGH*

Sounds like it's time for a change of scene, right?  Send up your message to the universe that Heidi needs her groove back, and let's see what shifts. EDITED now that I can share the news: a change of scene is exactly what I'm getting!  The universe has shone upon me and I will leave 2nd grade to teach pre-K next year!!!  Yay yay yay!!!)

Now the school year has truly ended, now I have enjoyed my first day of true rest & relaxation, and I'm in a better place to Be Here Now.  You know, like the sun does--hour after hour, day after day, eon after eon.  The seed of this poem came from a kindergartener's words back in 2011.

Belly of the Summer

hallelujah sun
you have eaten up

leaf and land, sand and snow,
ocean vapor, lava flow

now your belly glows
so full and fat

that you have to lie back
in your blue hammock
your many arms thrown wide

and just shine

revision ©Heidi Mordhorst 2019

Our round-up host today is my dear friend Linda Mitchell!  Join her at A Word Edgewise for summery poems and a very fun "clunker exchange"!


  1. Simply delightful....that belly of the sun. I am saying amen to each line of your post. I try not to panic over knowing that days will now shorten....on the slide down back to school when I'm still in extreme need of rest and recovery. A delightful visit with YOU, my friend. Thanks.

  2. that blue hammock! Love! Yay for relaxation for you, Heidi. xo

  3. I love the sun with its arms thrown wide in the blue hammock! We FINALLY got to see the sun today (after days of rain and flooding) and I celebrated by...weeding! You'll get your groove. Sometimes it just takes a few days of nesting to uncover it. It's there, waiting for you!

  4. I agree with Linda, That belly of the sun in the blue hammock is a brilliant image. Thanks. Where I am we still have one more week before the school year is over. For teachers, June is the cruelest month, not April.

  5. A) I LOVE this poem and B) SO GLAD that you are moving to pre-K!!

  6. This is fabulous, Heidi. I especially love the last stanza. And you will shine even brighter when you return to Pre-K in the fall!

  7. Oh my, I LOVE this poem, Heidi! I am printing it up to hang on my fridge so I can read it everyday this summer season (which extends a bit longer here in FL, but with less patio time unfortunately—too humid). Congrats on getting what you wished for with your move to pre-K!

  8. I love this so much. Be Here Now is the ongoing challenge of my life, and maybe everybody's life, I don't know. Congratulations on your new job and all the exciting things it will bring. You're an inspiration!

  9. I'm glad you have a break–and it sounds like a good change coming too! Love the image of the sun you created in your poem–bring on the warming rays…


Thanks for joining in the wild rumpus!