Holidays
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
merry.
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
root
core
essence.
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
No comments:
Post a Comment