The Crystal Gazer


I shall gather myself into my self again,
I shall take my scattered selves and make them one.
I shall fuse them into a polished crystal ball
Where I can see the moon and the flashing sun.
I Shall sit like a sibyl, hour after hour intent.
Watching the future come and the present go -
And the little shifting pictures of people rushing
In tiny self-importance to and fro.

Christmas is a holiday for friends,
However they may be, or not, related.
Remember that the three wise kings were strangers
In search of one remote, uncanny dream.
So may we all be far more than we seem,
Together bound for dark and haunting changes,
More lovely for the loves we have created
Along the lonely paths from means to ends,
Stumbling towards that star of Bethlehem.

Thanksgiving is a moment to remember
How little we can do to move the stars.
All we are and have we must surrender,
Nor is Earth less inscrutable than Mars.
Knowing this, we know the need for friends
Sharing both our pleasures and our pain,
Giving, though it may not serve their ends,
In joy the love that will our love sustain.
Very much like water in a lake,
In sum we serve as mirrors to the sky.
No one alone can heaven's picture take.
Given friends, we know the reason why.

Holidays are holy here in heaven.
(Ordinary days are awful, too.)
Love is mandatory day and night.
If you get mad, you're not allowed to fight.
Desperate deeds are difficult to do!
As you know, I'll always be eleven.
Years pass, and there's still no sign of you.
So please come soon, 'cause we're still buddies. Right?

Thanksgiving is a time for giving thanks;
However, the reception's not so clear.
As we pass the drumsticks or the shanks,
No Maker holds such severed flesh less dear.
Kindness is a requisite for grace;
So must we be to all that suffer pain.
Gratitude seems slightly out of place
In places where compassion is less plain.
Very few this day will give much thought
In passing to the creatures that they eat.
Nor will we feel the empathy we ought,
Given that we are ourselves but meat.

No Christmas for my children,
No husband for my bed,
No money for tomorrow,
No place to lay my head,
No tree with mounds of presents,
No ornaments or lights,
No smiles on Christmas morning,
No feast on Christmas night,

No toys to ease the boredom
Of hours before closed doors,
No family celebrations,
No trips to crowded stores,

No fireplace, no Santa,
No games aglow with friends,
No fire but feeble fury
As Christmas slowly ends.

For me I have no pity,
My sorrow stronger proves,
Because for my sweet children
I've nothing but my love.

Wedding Poems