Turning

Apollo's chariot's around the mark
accelerating back the way he'd come.
It's not yet cold, but shadows stretch out dark,
and bones grow porous for the dearth of sun.
Midwinter's child grew tall, and went to school
--So long's elapsed, some details have grown vague--
just tagging home to mark each festive Yule,
until his college battened down for plague.
Away from pious claims that"God's the Cause"
as if Aquinas truly could have known,
celestial motions point to deeper laws
that now, we all acknowledge as his own.
We congregate with friends, this darkest night
to celebrate the lord who shattered light.

Christmas

The shortest day's behind; Dark's tenure's torn
as--sinusoidally--we exit Night.
The Newtons celebrate; a child's been born
who'll teach the world a new regard for Light.
The Renaissance was slow to cross the sea
Great Britain's sundered from the continent.
But no one boasts a brighter prodigy,
the shining lamp of the Enlightenment.

In all his age, outshining kings for fame

not for his bloodlines, but what he could do.

The Earth and stars will never be the same
sir Isaac bade us see the world anew.

Each child's potential--who can name its worth?
Great things unfolded from this Winter birth.

mind, unbounded

Sir Isaac Newton knew no Trinity
was rooted in his bible in the Greek
but-lest his books be all deemed heresy--
such things he'd write about, but dared not speak.
Instead, he made the cosmos correspond
to God's own tabernacle for His ark
that He'd called forth, by word, not magic wand
a box of Light, carved out of primal Dark.
Imputing physics to the ancient text
its Bronze Age authors had no way to know
strange, pious physicist to retroject
his insights to an era long ago.
Great alchemist! The last of all his kind
transmuted not base metals, but the mind.