Mid-Winter is come on the Wheel of the Year;
With chill we are numb, and the short days are drear.
But the Sun is reborn; through the sky He ascends,
And my faith I adorn as my soul comprehends.
I vow love and trust that this longest of nights
Shall yet dawn robust and return the Sun’s light.
Honouring, confidence, I hoard not, nor conceal:
In the turning is renaissance, all hail the Wheel!