This is a poem I usually ponder during winter solstice but I post it today in honor of all of our fathers: one who emerged relatively unscathed from a car accident (heal up quickly, Dad); some who are making peace with the "new reality" of aging; and some who are watching their families struggle. To all of you, your sacrifices have not gone unnoticed. We love and honor you today.
Just Delicate Needles
It's so delicate, the light.
And there's so little of it. The dark
Just delicate needles, the light,
in an endless night.
And it has such a long way to go
through such desolate space.
So let's be gentle with it.
So it will come again in the morning.
--by Rolf Jacobsen
Translated by Robert Hedin