356 – Advent (viii)

Advent (viii)

hammered gold leaf
around the melting
chocolate coin
in the woven toe
hung with such care
-lessness the cat bats
it back and forth
the tree is piney dead
duff and dying dried
to tinder flame gone
up and out awake
the sleeping babes
awaiting father
Christmas coming?
empty bottles spin
leave the wilting cactus
without blooms
the cartoned waste
and unstrung bows
the smiling cards
of faces known
long ago and sent
by rote what joy
is in the hurried
holiday? a font
of peace and love
and joy on earth
goodwill to men
so seeming feint.
though star of stars
gleams bright
its said hung eastern
and drawing near
if sages and stories
hold truth as dear
as hope. in this
dark night
the soul, mine
own, awaits
one promised
crying as we all
have cried, groaning
through the flock
and brash of this
the longest season,
aching for the morn
to break, the light
to fall and rise and shine.

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