The longest night arrives softly,
a hush beneath the ancient sky,
where candles, lanterns, hearths, and stars
all answer darkness with a steady “not yet.”
Wind threads through branches like a whispered prayer
for every being who has waited too long
for warmth, for refuge,
for a world that remembers compassion.
In this season of bright defiance,
we honor every spark—
the flame in a menorah window,
the Yule log’s ember,
the quiet glow of hope in a weary heart,
the small, steady courage of an animal
who has never known a sanctuary
but still believes the sun will return.
Winter teaches us this:
light is not the absence of dark,
but the refusal to be extinguished.
So we kindle what we can—
mercy, truth, protection—
and carry it forward
for those still shivering in unseen cages,
for those waiting in shelters, forests, barns, and backrooms,
for those whose names we will never know
but whose freedom matters all the same.
Let the season remind us:
every life deserves warmth.
Every being deserves dawn.
And every small flame,
offered in kindness,
helps turn the wheel toward spring.
