Sunday, December 2, 2012

Season of Light in Darkness


You out there
with nothing
What do you honor, celebrate?
Is there a special twinkling
star that brings delight,
tempers sad misery
for just this night?
As twilight encroaches, covers cold crusts
of road, is your shiver of anticipation,
for joyful
revelries commencing;
do you bestow and receive
warm regard, embrace of
glorious good will?
Do you feel whole, holy,
a creature benevolent in grace?
How do you face the dark,
the cold, without hope
when better days, special days,
holidays belong to a story
you no longer know?

I think I get the "holiday" "War on Christmas" hype -- a distraction to keep us from the understanding that there is no holiday, but rather an orgy of consumption and stress.

gods rest ye

If only that were what it's all about
Communal fire, warm and glowing
Cooking up a feast enough to
fill our bellies and our larders
for wintry weeks to come;
Exchanging the gifts our separate
crafts empower
with wishes of good will,
good cheer, inebriating spirits
raised and quaffed against
chill or fear of night;
If only peace and sensitive portrayal
of the gift of human frailty
were the point and purpose of
a season,
voices pitched to harmonize
for beauty's sake;
If only we could reach into
legendary epiphany,
reach out in simple empathy,
if only we could simply be

Again, I Demand, "Merry Christmas"

Merry Mass of Christ
riven upon the four-fold way
cut into deity and man
on the crossroads
at the witching hour.
Sing praise of all things holy
Make us see and feel the pain
the horror of wrenching heart
from soul. Of blithely obliging
demonic Angel Fate
that each generation may descend
into fiery pits of degradation
reaching, reaching
into and out of the story, the path.
If Christ is love,
if love is what we worship, eyes closed
in holy communion,
what keeps us riven
on the crossroads?
What keeps us from reaching out
to bind each other's wounds?

Approaching Winter

Twinkling lights. I remember twinkling,
clouds resplendent awaiting snowfall.
It's Persephone's time below,
growing in power, regality.
Friend to post-living souls,
hearing their stories,
sharing her own,
from the above time.
Flitting about,
we sing seasonal phrases,
sweat anxiously in crowded malls
over inner demands for a never
remembered perfection.
Children standing in awe below
magnificence of glowing giant trees.
Cities return to primal forest
for an imaginary season.
Telling ourselves our stories that
Santa might find us worthy
of that shiny plaything that will
make us all right, make us happy.
Happy little children, so Mama
and Papa might be proud,
stop fighting,
tell us happy children stories,
take us back to the Garden.
Deep below, Persephone combs
her silken hair, long tangly
Magical petals of bliss and succulent aroma
lightly fall within the Garden walls.
The flowers are sleeping, blanketed in
millennial layers,
reverberations of stories,
plotlines thick with forest lore.
Snowflakes twinkle, lightly falling
drape long-growing trees
peacefully awaiting their Queen

December Wine

Decant December wine
The best saved for end
of the year
held in fond anticipation
Traveling slick hills on sleigh rides
of old
Reliving the thrills over
fine age and spirit
A day we hold dear
it is worth far more than gold
I see a star pale and strong
hear glorious wind
made of song --
holy choirs singing
There is sacrament in desire
Wonders of will, of intensity
wild like the sweet breath
of winter
Drink in the joy of being alive

Present Opening

Going forward
Lights and music
Swirling holiday cinnamon and myrrh
Taste of snowflakes
Crisp, cold, lively
Ballet nights, stories from afar
Joy becomes a hallmark
Friendly carolers decorate our doorways
Signs say peace is nigh
If we take the highroad,
ride blessings' breeze
to the sky
Warm healing rays grow inside and out
Affirm this season of life is about finding that place
of release that allows us to fly
Soaring forward
Sparkling stars
shine glory to Earthly gaze
Spin a spiral of joy
for the pleasure of all coming days

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