Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Changing to Rain

The snow-snug sky changing to rain
is comforting as an afghan
crocheted by Mom
forty years ago
during commercials
of Days of Our Lives
or General Hospital.

I'm at Gail Ann's Coffee Shop
(cream, two sugars)
refreshed by the sight and feel
of weather that keeps
most people indoors
if they have their druthers.

Across the street, the Regent Theatre
advertises a Janis Joplin tribute.
The Book Rack opens at 10:00.

I should be asleep, really,
having been up since the wee hours,
but I'm enjoying writing to you
from suburban Boston
three days before the New Year.

Friday, December 25, 2015

A Christmas Carol

Midnight, O midnight, is the holy moment
When God who is truly Man comes to you:
He shall remove all darkness and defilement,
Descend from heaven to make all things new!
The whole world thrills with eager expectation:
The night which makes all people reconciled
Now has arrived. O kneel in adoration!
Behold, behold, your Saviour is a Child.

Now may the light of faith endlessly burning
Show us the way to the cradle of birth,
Just as of old, a star as bright as morning
Led Eastern sages across desert earth.
The King of Kings is born where beasts are feeding:
O powers-that-seem, so boastful of your place,
Proud men and cold, turn arrogance to pleading.
The Child is God, his Mother full of grace.

The Saviour's strength has burst through every fetter;
Divine Love flows, and our world now is free:
A lowly slave becomes a prince's brother;
Chains break asunder in sweet liberty!
What shall we give the Lord for all his goodness,
Made flesh for us, to suffer pain and death?
Rise from your sleep!  Deliverance is upon us!
A Child is born. Praise him with every breath.

Tuesday, December 15, 2015

Tremont Street

Two bucks, a coffee,
and a kind word or two
to the pinkhaired waif
sitting on the sidewalk
outside St Paul's Episcopal

she smiles tenderly

Friday, December 11, 2015

A Carol for December 23rd

veni ad salvandum nos
Domine Deus noster

It is the eve of Christmas Eve,
   And cities move in breathless haste
Looking for some space to relieve
   The mind's distress, the spirit's waste.
Come, Lord, our God; be quick to save.

We count the hours until the day
   When wisdom shall appear enfleshed
Within a manger thick with hay
   To make the wounded world refreshed.
Come, Lord, our God; do not delay.

O come, Emmanuel, O King,
   O Dawn that scatters darkness drear:
Come in the silence, whisper, sing,
   And bless your children far and near.
Come, Lord, our God, our flourishing.

Love all poor sinners back to grace;
   Gentle the hearts of sage and fool;
Make tender now the scowling face;
   Bring potentates beneath your rule.
Come, Lord, our God: our pride erase.

O Mother Mary, sweet and mild,
   Noble St Joseph, chaste and strong,
Pray that we all be reconciled
   To God's embrace before too long.
Come, Lord, our God. Come, holy Child.

Thicket and Thorp

Who blossomed this frost-branch out of slumber? Must have been one of those crazy artist types, always splashing noisy colours, bl...