Christmas Past

I did a search on my data base for poems I had written with a Christmas theme and here are two I found. They were both wrote many years ago (at least 15), I had forgotten I had even written them. I am posting them with the hope that you will understand they do not reflect my life today. What I am hoping people will see from them is that even in the darkness the Lord was dealing with me, even if I did not understand or comprehend it. That He is there even when we do not know it, that He is waiting for us to open the door of our hearts and allow Him to come in and have fellowship with us no matter where we might be or who we think we have become.  On the eve of another Christmas, as we prepare to celebrate the birth of a Savior that most don't truly know or understand, my one hope is that everyone who does happen to read this will stop (even for just a second) and reflect on just who this man called Jesus really was. That you will turn off the tv, put down the headsets, and listen, really listen, for that small, still voice that calls within us all. He is there waiting, for you, for me, for all of us.

Not Often


I try to play by the rules,
but sometimes
I’m not even sure what the rules are,
and most of the time;

it doesn’t really matter.

There was a time
when it did matter,
but that’s just the way it goes,
the way it is,
inside I know it will pass;

as it always does.

The darkness draws close now,
closer than ever before,
enveloping me in its icy mystery,
as I no longer try to run
from its hidden secrets,
becoming one with its silky
sweet voice.

I remember Christmas Eve from the past,
when the world seemed fresh and sweet,
waiting for my dad to come home from work,
going to my aunt’s house for the traditional
Christmas Eve get together,
where my sisters and I would open one present,
all the lights out except those on the Christmas tree,
Elvis playing on the record player,
singing ‘I’ll be home for Christmas’,
wishing I could hold on to it
forever.

Sometimes I remember,
sometimes it matters;

but not often.
_________________________

Christmas Morning

Ah glorious morning,
the world holds its breath,
waiting for your wonderful moment,
searching for a glimpse
of your undeniable truth,
soon it will fade,
but for that one shining moment,
we remember,
and we see
with our hearts,
not our minds.

Soon the darkness will return,
the prince of this world
jealously guards his kingdom,
blinding the truth with words like
God and country,
waving his flags,
creating his heroes,
making that which is simple,
so very complicated,
making that which is nothing,
so very important,
keeping us apart,
confusing us
with his own deeds,
his own power,
justifying patriotic hatred,
creating racial separation;

ah but for a moment
we remember,
and we see
the peace;

thank you blessed king.
.
.