2020 Christmas Poem

Listen to the poem read to you by the fire. Or, just simply read on to listen with your eyes.

Disclaimer: This poem briefly challenges the existence of Santa. Use discretion around little ears.

‘Twas the week before Christmas

and all through the land

all the creatures were stirring –

something different was at hand.

The masks were all hung on the doorknobs with care

in hopes that a vaccine soon would be there.

And I in my woolies, wishing for rain,

had just settled in, months of wildfire sustained.

“Not one mask, but many!” I said with a shout.

“Not all are so that the germs will stay out...

One for the smoke, and one for the people

One for the cold, and one for that steep hill”

“It’s OK! It’s alright!” I heard left and right.

“No it is not!” others said, “Let’s put up a fight!”

“Everything’s wrong! The worst year of my life!”

I heard it was said in a fit of filled with spite.

So I say “We’re alive. And mostly alright.

My friends, let us live, that’s fighting the good fight.

Let’s do what we can, or nothing’s fine too.

Just surviving’s enough – you know this is true.”

“And it’s true, it’s been hard” I groaned face down from the floor.

“We’re becoming much more than we were once before...”

The comfort is helpful, but so is the pain –

it points me to where attention’s needed again.

It’s a challenge, it’s a change.

Oddly familiar, definitely strange.

2020 has good branding,

It’s been building and withstanding.

But it’s not just a bad year.

Overdue, yes, that’s clear.

Black lives that matter, pandemic disaster,

make it go faster, oh god, will it matter?!

Climate catastr-ophe… breathe.

Just… breathe.

The discomfort we’re living,

the loss, it is real.

But this moment is practice. 

This is what I feel.

What we are learning, please listen closely,

we’ll need to survive what’s ahead that is mostly, 

I think, maybe harder, maybe weirder.

Maybe scarcer, may hit nearer.

And there is no big man in a red suit who’ll save us.

I say this well knowing it might just be treasonous... but...

It’s not humans on thrones, on ballots, on alter.

No one person can do it, for we all surely falter.

And all this I say, with the tenderest of hearts.

It’s wisdom we need now — not intellect, not smarts.

It’s not just the mind, it’s the the whole thing embodied.

It’s the stuff that we feel most when we’re with that somebody...

we... love! Yes, that’s it!

(See?! wisdom can flow with the patience to sit!)

If there is something to save us, to hope for,

I think it is love that will be our savior.

Together. It’s us, we are the magic.

Love. It can raise us from that which is tragic.

Love of this beautiful earth we call home

Love of each other, fresh honeycomb

Love of the weirdness, this thing we call life

Love of the struggle, the elegant strife

Love of what was and love yet to be

Love what sustains us (for me, it’s a tree)

I know, oh I know, I know I’ve said plenty.

But out of love, I’ll ask you gently...

Keep going. Keep living.

The unknown’s a friend, if you are willing.

Give lots of care to yourself if you’re able,

I think it is this that keeps me most stable.

Drink lots of water, eat colorful foods,

pay careful mind to what fuels your moods.

Make space for creation and plenty of play.

Listen to what your inner child wants to say!

Evolution takes time, regardless of passion.

To sustain a great change, energy must we ration.

Patience for years of things we’re unlearning,

patience takes time for the truths we’re discerning.

It’s okay to find joy the same time as grief.

Humor is always a welcome relief!

And when we cannot safely be face to face 

we can find other ways to send heart’s embrace.

And with that I’ll send love with all of my might.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.