for Diane
Though my fingers fumble through
the joyful and triumphant chords,
though the notes are too high
for me to sing without stridence,
and though Diane’s alto is no longer
steady as it was over twenty years
ago when we began this Christmas ritual,
still we snuggle side by side
on the black lacquer bench
and harmonize through the deep
and dreamless sleep and the child
who shivers in the cold, we sing
of hopes and fears of all the years
and though we are clumsy and stilting
and downright not good, we are singing
through the darkest part of the year,
through this tender time for us all.
The light of an ancient star shines inside us.
And as we stumble, we laugh and
sing that light back to the world.
Posts Tagged ‘Christmas’
Noel, Noel
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, family, harmony, singing on December 26, 2025| 8 Comments »
One Night Before Christmas
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, mystery, stars, trees, winter on December 24, 2024| 1 Comment »
ornaments for the galaxy
between bare cottonwood branches
hung by what great hand, the stars
Of Course I Am Grateful, And
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, feeling it all, grief, joy on December 12, 2024| 10 Comments »
Forgive me if, as we wade through
December’s blue shadows,
if, as we pull the wood toboggan
across the basin of field,
if, as we wander through spruce,
as we traverse the crystal petals
of hoar frost, forgive me if, on this most
perfect day when I am so deeply
in love with my girl and my husband
and the day itself, forgive me if
as we cut down the finest,
most symmetrical Christmas tree
we’ve ever found, if in the midst
of beauty and luck and laughter and joy
I also feel inside me the ache
for the boy who would now
be a man who is not
with us here. Forgive me.
It’s all so beautiful. And still
this sorrow. How they mix together
like vinegar and pure water—
completely dissolved into each other.
I couldn’t begin to tell you what it means,
this tear.
Lullaby for the World
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged children, Christmas, manger on December 5, 2024| 7 Comments »
All the world is a manger.
The snow-bright field and the parking lot,
the quiet woods, the city smog,
the cold alley and the garden bed,
the streets of war, the river bend.
Everywhere, a chance for what is holy
to be born. And how do we treat
this manger? And if a holy child
were born here now, would we know?
Would we see the signs of blessedness
past the neon, through the smoke?
How would we greet this holy child?
All the world is manger.
And when will we remember
every child born is holy?
A Blessing
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged blessing, Christmas, love, peace, river on December 25, 2023| 11 Comments »
Dear Friends,
This one is for you. And for everyone. May deep peace find us–even in places it seems impossible. Even when it’s beyond our own capacity, may it grow in us, surprise us again and again.
Rosemerry
A Blessing
And if there is peace to be found,
may it remake you
the way the sunrise
remakes each morning,
the way birdsong
remakes the air,
may peace find you
again and again,
and may it shape
and reshape you
the way the river
creates its bed
simply by flowing.
Somewhere in the Universe
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, daughter, family, mother, space on December 24, 2023| 20 Comments »
There is this hour when my mother
and daughter and I are side by side
shaping soft red dough into tiny balls
to add to the green spritz wreaths;
the kitchen smells of almond
and butter, and there are carols
on the stereo and it’s going to snow.
Yes, I know there are thousands
of imperfect moments,
but there is also this moment
when I find myself smiling
in a small kitchen in a narrow river valley
in a vast mountain range on a large continent
on a smallish planet in one galaxy among
the hundreds of billions that somehow
all belong to a universe that’s expanding faster
than we think it should—
and as I hum along to a medieval hymn
about how a rose is blooming,
my heart scoured, my heart full,
how is it I, too, am a chord unfolding from minor
to major amid the cold of winter?
How is it I am a rose blooming bright,
faster than I think I should,
this dark season strangely blessed?
Walking with KC on Christmas Day
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, conversation, family, heartache, paradox, sharing, walking on December 26, 2022| 4 Comments »
This, too, is Christmas, the quiet
walk on the quiet road in the quiet air.
The only carol here—
unending verses of river.
The only gifts we brought—
our attention, our trust.
This feast is for the heart.
There is a generosity to the sunshine
no candle could equal.
It’s a deep sweetness
to be wrapped in blue sky,
a deep sweetness
to share heartache, exhaustion—
something I would never wish for anyone,
and yet, this Christmas day,
the sharing of it,
such a beautiful present.
Every Christmas Eve
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, family, gifts on December 25, 2022| 8 Comments »
for Diane
surrounded by bows
and ribbons, we sit on the floor
and wrap into the small hours—
all the while we unwrap our hearts
and give them again and again to each other
December 17, 2022
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged Christmas, fragile, life, love, mom on December 18, 2022| 9 Comments »
Mom makes the chocolates
while I chop nuts and make dough—
we listen to carols and sing along
as we have since before I remember.
The kitchen smells of mint and sugar
and I try to press the memory
between the pages of the day.
Perhaps it is a blessing
to know how fragile it is, this life.
I let myself fall all the way into the moment,
the sun long gone, but the house
still pulsing with love, still warm.
Learning from the Robins
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged bird, Christmas, community, flock, robin, survival on December 26, 2021| 6 Comments »
It’s Christmas and the yard,
grassy again from unseasonal rain,
is abloom with dozens of robins—
robins flitting and bobbing
and weaving unpredictable paths
with their dark gray wings.
They seem harbingers
of an unexpected spring,
as if life is asking them to be more alive
just when it seems as if
everything is dead.
How could I be more alive?
I love that these birds know
how to survive—love that
come winter, they flock.
Because more eyes means
more chances to spot food.
Because more eyes means
fewer chances to become food themselves.
I, too, have been flocking
this winter—surrounding myself
with other eyes, other hearts,
other wings, other minds.
It feels good to be one of many,
to trust my kind. It feels good
to fly together for this
tenderest time. The truth is,
it isn’t easy. The truth is,
we were made for this.