Winter Solstice Poem + Interpretation

Title: On the Winter Solstice of the Yisi Year, Sent to Daoist Li at Po Yuen Retreat
(Note: “Yisi” is the year-name)

Poem (original)

乙巳年至日寄普玄精舍李道長。          
陰極陽欲生
節候至玄冥
日軌己臻北
幽深見微明
坤鑰子時轉
地戶識神清
潛蛟慎未動
伏氣守其精
復爻承五鬼
一線連上京
仰觀虛危宿
離火照寒星
精滿海底穴
氣息注命門
數九此從始
地雷蟄莫驚
At yin’s far limit, yang is about to be born.
The season arrives at the dark depth.
The sun’s track has reached its northern extreme.
In the deep gloom, a faint brightness appears.
The Earth-key turns at the Zi hour.
At the Earth-gate, one recognizes spirit-clear purity.
The hidden dragon must not move too soon.
Store the qi; guard the essence.
The Returning hexagram bears down the five disturbances.
One thin thread connects to the Celestial Capital.
Looking up, I watch the Xu and Wei stars.
Li-fire shines on the cold constellations.
Essence fills the Sea-Bottom point.
Breath-qì pours into the Gate of Life.
From here, the Counting of Nines begins.
Thunder stirs beneath the earth—do not be startled.

What this poem is really saying
Winter Solstice isn’t just “the days get longer now.” In the old worldview, this is the pivot point where yin reaches its maximum and yang begins—quietly, invisibly—like a seed cracking underground. The whole poem is a teaching: do not rush the turning. Protect the root. Let the first spark grow without wasting it.

Line-by-line interpretation

“At yin’s far limit, yang is about to be born.”
The key word is “about to.” Real change starts small. If you demand fireworks, you’ll miss the moment that matters.
“The season arrives at the dark depth.”
The solstice is the deepest storehouse of the year—cold, hidden, sealed. Nature is conserving. You should too.
“The sun’s track has reached its northern extreme.”
This is the sky’s witness: the solar cycle hits its limit. When Heaven compresses, it’s not the time for human overreach.
“In the deep gloom, a faint brightness appears.”
Not bright—faint. The beginning of yang is a thread, not a torch. The refined practitioner learns to recognize “micro-light.”
“The Earth-key turns at the Zi hour.”
Zi hour (around midnight) is yin’s peak—and the moment the hinge flips. The poem locates the cosmic pivot in the darkest hour.
“At the Earth-gate, one recognizes spirit-clear purity.”
When the “gate of Earth” subtly opens, clarity becomes detectable. The instruction: keep the mind clean, simple, unscattered.
“The hidden dragon must not move too soon.”
Power is present—but premature action ruins it. The solstice is not a sprint; it’s incubation.
“Store the qi; guard the essence.”
This is the plain rule: stop leaking energy. Less stimulation. Less waste. More containment.
“The Returning hexagram bears down the five disturbances.”
“Return” (Fu / Returning) is the classic solstice hexagram: one yang line returns at the bottom. “Five disturbances” can be read as forces that agitate and scatter you—intrusive moods, cravings, noise, fear, restlessness. The first job is not conquest; it’s steadiness.
“One thin thread connects to the Celestial Capital.”
When that first thread of yang is protected, it links upward—alignment with what is higher, clearer, orderly.
“Looking up, I watch the Xu and Wei stars.”
Old school: observe the heavens to correct the human heart. When your mind shrinks, raise your gaze.
“Li-fire shines on the cold constellations.”
Li is the trigram of Fire/Clarity. But notice: it “shines,” it doesn’t “burn.” Solstice fire is gentle illumination, not blazing heat.
“Essence fills the Sea-Bottom point.”
“Sea-Bottom” refers to the root region (the base). The message: build foundation first. Don’t chase visions. Fill the basement, then talk about the penthouse.
“Breath-qì pours into the Gate of Life.”
The “Gate of Life” (Mingmen) is the body’s vital axis. The instruction is warm-nourishing breath: quiet, steady, sinking—no forcing, no strain.
“From here, the Counting of Nines begins.”
Solstice begins the traditional nine-nine count of winter’s phases. It’s a calendar of patience: you can’t bully the season.
“Thunder stirs beneath the earth—do not be startled.”
This is the closing teaching. In the Returning hexagram, thunder is under the earth: motion is real, but hidden. The biggest mistake is panic—thinking nothing is happening, or trying to force a result. Don’t spook the seed.
How to use this on Dec 21

Today’s correct strategy: conserve.
Less social noise. Less argument. Less late-night stimulation. Your job is to stop leaking.
Breath: natural, quiet, unforced.
Let the mind rest on the breath. No breath-holding, no “power breathing,” no chasing heat sensations.
Sleep: treat it like medicine.
Solstice is built for early nights. Staying up late tonight is basically pickpocketing your own future energy.
Inner stance: be willing to be slow.
If you feel “behind,” good—this day trains you not to flail. The season is turning. Your job is to stay steady enough to notice.
Final takeaway
“One yang is born” doesn’t mean instant spring. It means the seed has awakened. The highest skill on the solstice is simple: don’t scare it.