Christmas
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009

 

Morning rises, so slowly, so slowly
The light does settle, a snowfall gathers
We wear our coats and tread out lightly
Upon the blanket, so easy to tear
We hear the silence, we see the light
We wake this morning, after night
When dawn is rising, a tender fright
Like goosebumps, shivers, down our spine
All in due time, all percussion clears
The start begins, the end is near
The lonewolf wanders without a clue
Of the warmth inside our home

He sits in shadows, amidst them, alone
Prepares for battle, his minions, outgrown
We steer our cattle, into their crate
Gain great fat and pile our plates
The pig it smiles, a spark in eye
As if the life that passed it by
Was not at all a tragedy
This death was just a phase
Not everything is lost
Life regains it's pace
Spirits blossom

The evening fades the sun does set
We tread upon the frail ground yet
The snow is white the ground is brown
The brown is hidden beneath white mounds

Is our life perfect? Is it divine?
I send a smile with each sunshine
A small grin sprouts with each rainfall
Each snow, each spring, each wake up call

Sprout, a blossom, spring - in view
Shout and linger and grin at you

Streams of tears pour out the skull
Of the dead, the dying, dull
As withered flowers in a vase
In this asylum filled with craze

Scream, yell, stories to tell
Tell and be told, grow wise and hold
Silence, speak, in words small and bleak
Yet they hold a fortune inside
A spectrum no heaven could reap or defy
The truth - our humanity
It burns, ablaze

The snowflakes coat, the frost like icing
The ice it floats, on darkness rising
Our castle, haven, fort, in the storm
We gather, and speak, distort, deform
The world, the view, perspective, true
The face, the lie, objective, die

Santa falls and breaks his neck
Down the chimney, down, down

A tunnel crawling creeping leaping
Never ending, steeper, thinner
The fire purges, cleanses, consumes
The ashes gather, the smoke resumes
Seeps through the devils nostrils
Warming our world, our shelter