Christmas, Channukah, and Yule poise
Upon this cusp of dark and day
Where we end biography, here
At myth’s rim. Like astronaut envoys
Returning from the vault of play
In high deeps to this lit sphere,
We rewind the reel of narrative
Back to the orbit’s source; our sky
Boat skims the atmosphere of fact,
Grows fervid from the rub, and gives
An auric halo to our what and why.
So long-ago Aegeans in the act
Of hunting other sponges handlined
Down from sun to lightless groping
To discover harvest, let our stories
Sink to origin. Permit the blind
Time before again, again, our hoping
Explicates itself to conscious glories.
Now let strands of crafted prose be frayed
To myth…myth recess itself to stark
And generative word…lonely word our eyes
With image daze. Now let the image fade.
Love winter now, and fallow dark,
The cleared fields where our dreams will rise.
