Time for a short break. Back in January.

Simeon

a Hebrew dedication like any other
circumcision
blood
blessing
naming

Jesus Christ
----------as per angelic instruction

and then an old man approaches
clear eyes
soft voice
wrinkled strong hands

takes crying squirming baby from astonished mother mary
and all becomes quiet as a spirit descends
and gives the song to bless the one
who extended his sight to see the One

as we too may encounter him at any
time
in any
one
at any
place
and may depart in peace
extending the song

Gloria In Excelsis Deo

they all tried their best to approximate angelic gloria

Vivaldi
punching out the word like a bullet to the heart
Palestrina
soothing the hillside with intertwining harmonies
Handel
exploding with high heavenly voices
Bach
breaking up the word into an instrumental dance
Mozart
simply letting the voices sing the sonorous song of praise
Beethoven
rushing upwards to a joyful complexity of rhythm and wall of sound

So many others

and then they struggle with the next line
angels proclaiming

Et in terra pax

not in heaven
not in our individual psyches
not even in our congregations
but on
--------------earth

how do we sing that?

with irony?
with hope?
with assurance?
with silence?

look at the newborn face of the child
the only true antidote to hate

and peace on
earth
may yet descend
on dove-like angel wings

stopping for me (apologies to e.d.)

there’s a grey horse outside
stamping and snorting
white steam nostrils

he’s attached to a dark covered sleigh (this is not jingle bells)
gleaming in the moon’s glow

my coat awaits as I get the urge
but it would be a loud and grating ride
as there is little snow and we would be
travelling on gravel and pavement and grass

where would we travel
I wonder
on this strange and singular journey?

the horse waits----------impatient

but I prefer the beauties of here and now
green eyes of my love
burgeoning lives of my children
good will of
friends
-------siblings
---------------church

and just like that
he moves along, sleigh scraping
behind
empty

Dad at Christmas

his favourite carol was Good King Wenceslas
and he liked to sing all 8 verses knowing them by heart
maybe it was the way the kindly monarch
presided over his grounds and led by example

and if we sang Joy to the World before the meal
he would try to sing the second verse as well
no hymn truly complete without all the verses

this was when he was older

he is strangely absent from my earlier
memories of Christmas
a vague smiling presence as gifts and play
took over
but at church or gathering
he usually gave a talk or
sermon at some point
pointing with that thick finger at the meanings of the
day

in later years this was reduced to reading Luke 2
“and a decree went out”

He made sure it was read and then smiled with pride
at his children and grandchildren as they performed and then
dutifully went to receive his and Mom’s blessing

sometimes he took out his harmonica
assuredly tapped it on his calloused palm
and played a hymn
trembling right hand
creating vibrato

He wasn’t much for receiving presents
gadgets and ties and sweaters held little interest for him
dropping to the floor beside him

but he usually got a book or two
and these he examined tenderly
feeling the edges of the pages with fingertips
turning it around in his hands
opening to a random page and beginning to read
presiding over the words with interest and
the love of learning something new

as he quietly presided over
a family gathered
to celebrate the Gift
with interest and love

not trees

the sap in winter
retreats to the core
or so I imagine
no expression of life or feeling
bare sticks waver in winter wind

we are not trees
as we sing our longing
for life and light
in this winter world
often with a catch in our throat
reaching out for each other
with unwavering love
wind freezing our tears

Jonathan Elias

he’s wearing a brimmed hat
black curls emerge beneath
he hasn’t shaved yet today
not particularly prayerful

but his dark eyes tell you
something serious is going on

he wants to take you far away
------- and so you get on his traveller
-------------- and propeller through
--------------time--------------space
across border lines
crossing distant seas

when you finally stop
he points and you see it

the strange beauty emerges like a multi-coloured diamond in a desert

and you ask where this is

he says nothing
pointing at his head under that hat

and you think
sometime
--------somewhere
------------------somehow

this prayer will be answered