It’s Not About The Ornaments
Let us mark the willow tree as supplicant,
for there is beauty in its bending,
grace in the dance of a sinking stone,
constant sacrifice in a waterfall,
aching glory in the crash of a wave on rock,
just imagine then, how much power lies deep in spirit.
We’ve traveled farther than we know, blind to what brought us here.
Still, everything grows from something else, origins in premiere.
The tree of knowledge grows from the most barren climbs and settings.
It is in the desert, that we find discovery of beauty in invisible things.
Though longings pile in tumbled dunes, desperate hands dig wells
even as the soul heaves sorrows when barren and parched it swells
for amongst the sands stone mounds mark our trails and solitary paths
where the eternal stands to aimless winds and nature’s forceful wrath.
The will is tested under assault, as strength wavers with each blow
and the desire to stand weakens as loss takes away reason to grow
But the correlation between giving and growing soon becomes apparent
and whispered calm breathes life anew, for the power to love is inherent.
In years past, never really knowing, we made our stand alone,
t’was just another day ‘neath twinkling lights, wind scoured our bones.
Yet then, like snow in the desert we found beauty–in unity
our souls became nourished from the succulent fruit of life’s tree.
Farther than we know we have traveled, of deeper meaning often unaware
Once lost souls in barren deserts, we refused to sink in despair
Those glass bridges we first constructed, at times we still fear they may shatter
But then life gently reassures us, we’ve built strong connections that matter
Then in the midst of our discontentment, our discord and internal strife
Comes a little season, a gentle breath of hope, to soothe and calm each life.
But in our endless quest to gain and grow, we worship meaningless displays;
We drape boughs in silver, gold, and tin to purchase peace upon this day.
Can it be that we, so wise, so deeply learned, and so highly civilized,
Have overlooked the simple truth that shined once and always in the desert sky?
Have our trials left us greedy and vain, flaunting our trinkets for all to see?
Do we even pause to remember this day the greatest Gift ever hung on a tree?
Perhaps it is too much to ask that we brush the divine on this day of days;
We’ve been so close to the ground so long and wandered the winding ways.
May our paths and our purposes blend as they did for three wise men of the east,
Knowing not to what end, let us carry our gifts, from the greatest to the least.
We are all of us brothers in struggle and sorrow, but let us rejoice again;
For a moment, a hope, a Christmas, of peace on earth and good will to men.
Merry Christmas, travelers, and may your paths always lead home.
The Falcon http://www.myspace.com/Craig_Fallon
Liaison : DJ Myke http://www.myspace.com/jmichaeltodd
*** Poets Round Table is a weekly event.If you would like to participate, let Myke know.