I wrote twice last night, but I decided not to post them. Wisdom prevailed. It was all too maudlin.
And what I have written today is not so cheery, either. It is Christmas, a time of cheer. Don't let me bring you down. The Christmas card is a metaphorical joke. I've used it before.
And so. . . delete, delete, delete.
Here is the last addition to the C.S. Advent Calendar, I swear. I'll not burden you with any more. But this is something I found in the Way Back Machine. Love and Kisses. Here's to a far better year.
I was thinking of posting Yeats “The Magi,” something about that Beastial floor. I think that’s it. At the end.
ReplyDeleteBut I thought about this one. Then. This morning.
Christmas Mail
BY TED KOOSER
Cards in each mailbox,
angel, manger, star and lamb,
as the rural carrier,
driving the snowy roads,
hears from her bundles
the plaintive bleating of sheep,
the shuffle of sandals,
the clopping of camels.
At stop after stop,
she opens the little tin door
and places deep in the shadows
the shepherds and wise men,
the donkeys lank and weary,
the cow who chews and muses.
And from her Styrofoam cup,
white as a star and perched
on the dashboard, leading her
ever into the distance,
there is a hint of hazelnut,
and then a touch of myrrh.
I felt, even tho I’m not a mail carrier - I felt connected to that. This moment as I sip my best reliable morning friend - and smell horse shit wafting from across the way.
My own little world of manger animals and visitors to come.
And the ever present gift of my morning best reliable friend - coffee.
Tho I’ve set a surrealist table for breakfast. 😊
You liked your guitar. It’s fun to look back and witness some truth in your life. Seems you’ve always cherished the gift of music.
It’s just a day to remember love and light. Something we should do everyday anyway.
Merriest I can muster to you and yours. Old bean.