christmas should be the merriest day on the isles but i, tiny feathered creature, must silence my celebration as i am aware of the bloody tradition of st. stephen’s, the martyr, a mere desecrated day after the holy day, when every student of ritual hunting will practice taking deadly aim of us, sweetly innocent singers we, wee little wrens.
I am a student of wrens. When the mother bird returns to her brood, beak squirming with winged breakfast, a shrill clamor rises like jingling from tiny, high-pitched bells. Who’d have guessed such a small house contained so many voices? The sound they make is the pure sound of life’s hunger. Who hangs our house in the world’s branches, and listens when we sing from our hunger? Because I love best those songs that shake the house of the singer, I am a student of wrens. _____________
Melissa Lemay hosts dVerse poetics this week and prompts us to write poems related to animals and Christmas (not the usual animals associated with the Nativity). I wrote a "golden shovel" poem, ending each line with a word from phrase taken from Thomas R. Smith's poemabove.
Lord, sometimes we just don’t understand the mysterious ways you treat your children: Abraham asked to sacrifice son of promise Joseph jailed in Egypt for misjudged morals Moses not allowed to enter promised land Hosea told to marry an unfaithful prostitute Zechariah murdered inside temple courts.
life can seem cruel and unfair in its dealings as some people struggle disproportionately do you stop your ears and turn your back? sometimes your children suffer through no sin of their own but because of others’ lies we expect justice to prevail but if it doesn’t can we believe you are sovereign over all?
try hard to quiet our questions and doubts but sometimes we voice laments out loud and, like Job, dare interrogate God of the universe; human clay complains to potter. we fall at your feet, cry hot tears, and rise with hope in our hearts to bear burden of doubt until your holy kingdom fully comes!
If we have access to clean water, adequate food, decent clothing, and a sturdy home, we should be thankful. Some people in our world walk long distances to draw contaminated water and many go to bed with hungry bellies. Homeless people shiver in ragged clothes out on cold sidewalks.
If we have family that loves us and we enjoy the companionship of good friends and neighbors, we must be thankful. Think how many people live alone or feel lonely in the wide world, wishing they had someone to be with or talk to. A warm touch, listening ears and understanding heart are treasures.
If we live in a nation that respects the life and liberty of its citizens with laws that recognize the worth and dignity of every individual, let us be thankful. Rule by tyrants or terrorists results in oppressive regimes where no one is safe. All people deserve a voice in their own government.
easy to complain
about food or politics
give me thankful heart
_________________
Frank encourages us to write a haibun on thankfulness today at d’Verse poets…not sure whether I’ve written a haibun or a grandmotherly sermon!
The Creator precisely designs and tunes the cosmos so that twice yearly the plane of the earth’s equator bisects the sun which means day and night are in perfect balance. The solar system moves with exact timing, aligned in an intricate celestial dance.
At county fair, teams of horses pull wagons in outdoor arena. Harnessed together, two powerful animals work together in perfect harmony. A white and black team, Daisy & Midnight, are trained to trot around ring in rhythmic synchronization, bells jingling.
Sun and moon mark time on earth, ushering in four seasons in turn. As plants soak in every available ray of sun, equinox signals leaves to bud with new life or dry to die; coloring our world. Our lives cycle through the months, years and seasons.
a poem in my pocket 
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