In the deep woods
where shadows dance

In plain sight
while the day

Crumbles into dusk
where the truth

Can no longer
be hidden or shaded

But waits for the new day
transparent to the will

Flooding the fresh
air with a full chord

Which resonates and 
warms the willing heart

Which sings sweetly 
an ancient song

About justice and 
where it can be found

We closed on the prey
crippled in the fray

And along with the rest 
brought him down

The first blast to his pride
shamming him for the loser 

He dreaded being and damning him
for the rest of his miserable life

To the junkyard of failure 
and the outhouse of fools

The magic of Christmas 
is the warmth by the fire
the secured windows doors 
a barrier to the hard blow

The truth of Christmas 
is manifold and found
in candle light and green
sprigs and boughs 

The faith of Christmas
is a deep breath exhaling
the power of belief and charity
to the lost and forlorn

While keeping the fires 
kindled coaled and warm
though the long nights
cold days of doubt and despair

Until the dawn of the day
children laughing racing
houses bursting with the 
elemental joy wrapped in green.

high ground will crumble
fall and meet the valley

while fleeing naked priests 
will scream for protection

to long dead fantasies
neither near nor far

never really found save 
in desperate dreams

on lonely sad deathbeds
chiseled into greying stone

to the eternal damnation
of the eyes of man gone blind

to the avarice of the few
who survive since they can

upon the long suffering poor 
whose time will surely come.

the room shuddered
to silence and respect 
for the glimmer of 

fierce wisdom showered 
upon the philistine
blathering nothing

about nothing, 
while he was shammed
to deep silence forever

holly always wins out

in the final moments
when you’ve given up
and reached that never
again not me moment
even that familiar
who thought this up

holly always wins out

and it aways has from 
ancient kindled fire 
on the darkest night
when evergreens have 
finally won the stage 
when comfort and peace
are dreamt in the 
deep cold of the 
long and brilliant night
children asleep 
toes to the heat

holly always wins out

on the cave wall
and spit the image 
of a blinding truth
onto the hardened stone

from colors ground
from plant and stream 
that will reveal for the ages
what has been wrought by lies

and sad corruption for 
the aching world to witness
that our pure time passed here
brought light to a blighted world.

drifting in and out of 
frozen stellar caverns 
oceans coves and bays 

heavy waters foaming 
dense air climbing
falling as ordained

sad priests crippled
by age grimly suffering
the usual consequences

beneath an outed moon
drifting to the lightless
edge of dead mythologies

beyond dalliance
with the idea of time
now shot full of doubt

the substance of 
space warping 
the weight of the sun

drawing while it still can
the order and drama
of it’s planetary horde

burning to it’s core
the drama to come
of the cooling fall.

Of how and even what
brings to light certain 
realities and sadness

When diurnal batterings
are brought to bear
in the ongoing battle

Between the light and 
the dark switch on or off
you may not dare to engage

And so among the shades
you must remain bound and
tethered in slack bindings

You could discard at any
time but you don’t
since time has become

A liability and a threat
to your continued existence
as the door threatens to 

Not shut once again
but now finally to open
letting the night air through

Until the dawn creeps
to the morning cross 
and begs the day for mercy

for a short walk 
up an easy street
with all of the family

to 

something 
called 
church
where an organist
plays loudly and thunderously 
people sing badly

and there is a threat of snow

I think I’ve been 
abducted by 
aliens