Returning to Reality

There was a holiday.
If it was about the turducken, it failed miserably.
It was definitely dry. Someone is always trying
to outdo; someone is exhausted from the trying.

Still the hills are shining,
coated lightly with shimmering ice.
The season is a master of both brilliance
and truth.

In this moment of reflection,
there is no question that we are left lacking.
God is forgiving but there is a limit.

On the other hand,
if everyone made the right decision about mass
or the midnight sale,

The gross national product
might fail.  Madison Ave would lose all its perks.
Hmm, that might work.

There was a holiday;
the tinsel is tangled and spent.  Some of the twinkle
lights have burnt out. The tree is a little worse
for  wear,

But the night is calm and clear.
There is a sense of peace, an awareness that
for all we get wrong, we understand a baby was born
and that changed everything.

Leave it up ~or~ Take it down?

My mind
is not ready to give up
the glitter of Christmas, the scent of pine,
the sight of red velvet bows
soft against balsam.

Deck the Halls!
We did and now we admit
to a moment of regret,

Not for the presence
of holly and mistletoe or the angel,
beginning to frazzle but free
from the fear of heights.

The quiet is appreciated. The new
memories made are celebrated.
There is an air of contentment.

Leave it up, or take it down?
We struggle with the options offered
as we pause in this space
between years.

Sweet Celestial Season

In the autumn of intention
when the senses seek but rest,
When we pause to count our blessings
and know that we are blest,

In the purple haze of twilight
as day pauses at the brink,
I am almost overwhelmed
by the dishes in the sink.

How come when there’s a party
the dishwasher’s always
on the blink?

And what about the sweeper
with its mile-long warranty?
Seems it doesn’t cover
a general lack of energy.

Then there’s that adorable kitten
turned cougar in a day,
It’s somewhere in the Christmas tree
hidden fast away.

The darling little terrier
that I love as my own kin
has claimed my favorite chair
and will not let me in.

I am thankful for the bounty
of friends and family dear
and thankful that such celebration
only happens once a year.

Hear Now of this Love We Share

Our heavenly Father sent to us his son
to teach us love and offer us salvation.
A virgin birth, the manger held a king,
a holy child. We sing praises to his name.

The angel Gabriel came to Mary to instruct;
she heard his words, accepted without question,
such was her faith. Thus to her was born the Savior,
Christ Jesus, Lord — O! glorious celebration.
A world reborn,  awash in new found Light.

Dear Father God, how we love your son,
a baby born to be the King of kings. With joy,
we relive that hallowed night when angels sang
and shepherds quaked in fright.

Meticulous Luke, the story did unfold
with best of sources held in high esteem.
He wrote of Jesus whom he had never seen
in all his time on earth, yet it was Luke
who chronicled best that birth.

Our precious Savior, Holy Trinity,
we’re learning still. You made us ever hungry.
Christmas now, we seek no myrrh nor gold.
Your precious Light renews the story that Luke told.

Country Christmas ~ Part 2


Picking the Perfect Christmas Tree

The snow decked woods was ours that day,
and all that grew was part of our Christmas bounty,
We skated skateless on the frozen forest floor,
pulled armloads of running cedar, baskets full of holly
and mistletoe, and bagged fresh boughs of aromatic pine,

Each year the same reminder: “We are here to find a tree.”

There were evergreens of all kinds
and if we’d had our druthers, we’d have harvested
one of each, but one was the limit
and we didn’t have all day,  though each year the sun
was fading by the time we’d made our pick..

We craned our necks; it was quite a stretch
to see the pines that grew so tall,
but they were mostly on the spindly side,
not cultivated for their shape nor hue.
Often times the cedars, lacy and full branched
would catch our eye. Pine or cedar, its bottom
was much too fat to use it all; we trimmed away
a bit to mix with holly leaves and pine cones,
wreathes for gifts and for our own front door.
There really had never been so fine a tree.

By now, our mittens were wet, our fingers frozen,
but the sled piled high with greenery
proved that the best things in life are truly free.
Just before sunset we headed home,
happy with our perfect Christmas tree.