After All, the Earth Must Wait for Spring
After all, the Earth must wait for spring.
No angel ever changed the pace of time.
Goodness is still tucked away below,
Empty as a field asleep in snow,
Like iron in the harshness of that clime
As God is born in frozen Bethlehem.
Calendars May Mark the Tides of Love
Calendars may mark the tides of love;
However, please recall that love's the sea.
Rest easy, then, in Christmas' sweet madness,
Illumined by the pregnant star of gladness,
Serene within the depths of you and me.
There is no pain no happiness can move,
Making room for cherished company,
Antidote for life's incumbent sadness
So long as will and wisdom puissant prove.
Can the Wind Across the Snow
Can the wind across the snow
Howl enough of frozen pain?
Return to where the children go.
In love and hope begin again.
So did Christ return to Earth
That lovers might renew their love.
May all your longing bring to birth
A passion that no wind can move,
So strong no wind can stronger prove.
Charity Begins Where Interest Ends
Charity begins where interest ends,
Having little interest but in giving,
Removing self from self, that there be space
In which a much-loved guest might feel at home.
So might one find delight, though ravens rend
The unembroidered fabric of one's being:
Miracle of unrequited grace,
A wave of wonder welling up from stone,
Singing as it breaks of selfless grieving.
Christmas Is a Holiday for Friends
Christmas is a holiday for friends,
However they may be, or not, related.
Remember that the three wise kings were strangers
In search of one remote, uncanny dream.
So may we all be far more than we seem,
Together bound for dark and haunting changes,
More lovely for the loves we have created
Along the lonely paths from means to ends,
Stumbling towards that star of Bethlehem.
Christmas Is a Time of Little Time
Christmas is a time of little time.
How we get there is a mystery.
Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb
Into fields of sunlit harmony.
Shopping, cooking, clearing walks and yards,
Trimming house and tree while working, too;
Making phone calls, wrapping, writing cards,
As all worn out we do what we must do
So that this day of joy might joy renew.
Christmas Isn't Easy Far Apart
Christmas isn't easy far apart.
Holidays are an incessant bell
Ringing through the hollows of the heart,
Invading passages I know too well.
So does Christmas trespass on my sadness,
Taking precious room I save for you.
Missing you is a reclusive madness,
Altering each harmony and hue,
Shadowing each shade I vacant view.
Cold Comfort in the Chastity of Sorrow
Cold comfort in the chastity of sorrow,
Having turned in pain towards innocence,
Reaching through the madness for the marrow,
Intent, for once, on yielding all pretence;
Sensing the necessity of love
Though feeling none but hunger well within,
Meaning nothing more than one might prove
As one finds little proof in death and sin:
So it was one night in Bethlehem.
Evidence of Paradise
Evidence of paradise
Veils its rainbowed wings,
Enters life like one of us,
Like spirit wrapped in things.
Yet angels sing in Bethlehem
No more than in Mobile,
And kings careen through Rocky Mount
No less than through Jezreel.
Dream, then, of the bitter wind,
Nights for which one yearns
In sorrow and unsullied joy,
Child on whom life turns,
Older than the universe,
Love haunting, hurting, healing, worse,
An anguished joy one can't reverse
So long as blood still burns.
Grace Comes Unexpectedly
Grace comes unexpectedly
In barns on bitter nights,
Ultimately ordinary
Lest we claim our rights.
Invisible to those who see,
A veil to those who know,
No miracle or mystery
Descends to us below;
Just immanence immaculate
Awake within our sleep,
Salient as a centipede
Out strolling on a heap,
Not strange enough to keep. |
Angels Have No ID Bracelets on Them
Angels have no ID bracelets on them.
No features glow with heavenly delight.
Given that their wings are made of feeling,
Each flying angel's given to concealing
Love's plumage like a rainbow in the night.
Shyness cloaks the halos that surround them.
Can Anyone Explain the Glow of Christmas
Can anyone explain the glow of Christmas?
Holidays are candles in the night.
Rebirth comes from family and friends
In one bright blur of food and talk that ends
Still burning as a peaceful inner light.
There is no way to substitute for Christmas.
Miss it and no circumstance feels right.
All my heart's with you, yet I must miss this
Season thick with love and rich delight.
Candles Are a Gift of Light
Candles are a gift of light,
A tiny sun, a bit of star.
No other dancer in the night
Dances with such sheer delight,
Little souls serene and bright,
Each a glimpse of what we are
Shining innocent and pure.
Cheer Is Not What You'd Expect from Christmas
Cheer is not what you'd expect from Christmas:
Headaches are more like it, lack of sleep,
Raw nerves, rough words, waits to make you weep,
Irritable hours, days, intense, relentless.
So much money, time, so many dreams
Tied to one quick wanton winter's morning,
More an orgy than a merry dawning,
A ritual divorced from what it means.
Still, each year the love within it gleams.
Christmas Is a Time for Love and Fun
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to reshape souls and roots and skies,
A time to give your heart to everyone
Freely, like a rich and lavish sun,
Like a burning star to those whose lonely sighs
Show need of such a time for love and fun.
For children first, whose pain is never done,
Whose bright white fire of anguish never dies,
It's time to give your heart to every one,
That not one angel fall, to hatred won
For lack of ears to listen to her cries,
Or arms to carry him towards love and fun,
Or friends to care what happens on the run
To adult life, where joy or sadness lies.
It's time to give your heart to everyone,
For God loves all, and turns His back on none,
Good or twisted, ignorant or wise.
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to give your heart to everyone.
Christmas Is for Cowards and for Thieves
Christmas is for cowards and for thieves.
How might they be loved as dearest friends?
Redemption starts where satisfaction ends.
Instinctively, one does as one believes.
So did Christ love everyone the same
That everyone might love the same as he.
Most children that are loved will loving be
As they become the people they became.
So shall you love all creatures in his name.
Christmas Really Isn't About Toys
Christmas really isn't about toys,
However much we love them, young and old.
Reductions in the fat of Christmas day
In time restore its vigor and its health.
So let us not display our absent wealth,
Though children should have ample chance to play.
More sweet and joyous music must be sung,
And thoughts of peace and mercy make their way
Silent and uncluttered through the noise.
Could There Be Angels Waiting in the Wings
Could there be angels waiting in the wings,
How might we call upon their ecstasy?
Rainbows are mere garnish on the days
In which we are the glory and the light.
So may we hear the songs our sunshine sings,
The words which will the wonder of our ways;
May we know how good it is to be
As we celebrate the holidays,
So much in love we weep as angels might.
Glad Tidings Are a Coat of Many Colors
Glad tidings are a coat of many colors,
Lest warmth be the only use for clothes.
A moment of redemption is a blessing
Derived from generations of cross dressing,
The product of choice strips from these and those,
In each of which are gnostic snips of others.
Deeper than the doting dreams of mothers,
In seas that lie beneath the ancient floes,
Neither touched nor untouched by transgressing,
Gripped alone by naked grace, one grows,
Silent in the unspent blood of brothers.
Hanumas Is Something Strange Indeed
Hanumas is something strange indeed:
A Hanukkah and Christmas in one night!
Now mixed families must combine the two,
Uniting loved ones just as God would do,
Making separate flames a single light.
All who love by love are thenceforth freed
Simply in all love to find delight. |
