December 17

Part 3

Sing a new song to the Lord;
Alleluia.
Trumpet forth the joyous chord!
Alleluia.
For the reign of hate is ended,
God to humankind descended,
Newborn helpless on the straw --
Alleluia.

Sing a new song to the Lord,
Alleluia.
Shout for freedom in accord;
Alleluia.
Fear no tyrant, death, nor prison,
Lo! His star has Eastwards risen;
Trust the wonders that you saw --
Alleluia.

Sing a new song to the Lord,
Alleluia.
Open, hands, spill forth your hoard!
Alleluia.
Value love, not love of power,
Peace let blossom, justice flower,
Empathy be your new law --
Alleluia.

Sing a new song to the Lord,
Alleluia.
All creation be restored,
Alleluia.
Tend His gift of Earth together,
Hare and human, fin and feather;
Lift this weeping world to awe --
Alleluia.

December 16

(Or, On Employees Who Take Too Much Initiative)

For Brigette DePape

This memo's to apologize
Regarding last week's hassle;
On St. Steve's Day, just past sunrise,
I gazed out from my castle.
It was a lovely day, in brief;
I almost had to sing;
How privileged, to be a Chief
Executive and King.

And looking out I saw, that dawn,
Some huts in poor condition
And found myself reflecting on
(Time-honored) our tradition:
Dispensing at one lucky door
A little food and fuel
So as to give the working poor
A nicer time at Yule.

My page was summoned and assigned
The job (it was quite clear):
To search our database and find
Some peasants living near
At whose house we could do a stop
With food and royal crown
(It makes a perfect photo op
And helps keep riots down.)

I saw the kid's eyes lighting up
(Right then I should have known);
He grabbed his pen and coffee cup
And yanked out his iPhone.
(At his request -- to my regret --
I'd had the castle wired
For high-speed wireless internet.
I should have had him fired.)

All day -- he didn't take lunch break --
We heard his keyboard clack
(My PA said, "Oh, for God's sake.
Can I give him a smack?")
And then we saw him every hour
As he popped in to ask
Some question (answered with a glower.
Could he not stay on task?)

Then he was back: to make a fuss.
"About that rural diet --
It's healthier: for Earth, and us.
I quite think we should try it.
The castle banquets: can't we make
Them veggie once a week?
Let's do it for the planet's sake.
(Besides, it's rather chic.)

Our castle's more than --" (On he went;
He couldn't take a hint) --
"Three thousand fifty nine percent
The average footprint.
With global warming, furthermore --"
(I didn't want to know)
"-- We don't have any freezing poor,
Because we don't have snow!"

The kid was driving me berserk
And my prep time was fleeting;
I told him to get back to work --
Just then, they called the meeting.
I couldn't help but feel dismay;
I told him to keep muzzled;
He promised me that he'd obey
(Though he looked rather puzzled.)

But then it happened. On a whim,
Quite to my consternation,
A trusting colleague called on him
To make his presentation.
And (though I now foresaw a tiff)
Could only think "Oh crap…"
As he pulled up his spreadsheet with
The calculator app.

"It's great to stand before you kings;
And as we meet today,"
(He said) -- "I'd like to look at things
A slightly different way.
St. Stephen's Feast: a time of love
For all the human race.
Let's tackle the root causes of
The problems that we face.

Some simple goals (I've chosen three)
Like worldwide education,
Eradicating poverty,
And proper sanitation
Would cost a simple fraction
Of the money we make here;
It's time we took some action
To spread lasting Christmas cheer!

To keep Earth within two degrees,
Stop heatwaves and the polar
Melt -- why are serfs still burning trees?
Let's put them all on solar.
We've got to end reliance
On those dirty carbon fuels
As basic climate science
Says (unless we're total fools)."

He'd gotten one thing right, I fear:
The atmosphere was heating --
I couldn't speak for Earth -- just here
Inside the boardroom meeting.
All round the table came the sighs;
I gazed up at the ceiling,
And saw some others roll their eyes
And wince. (I knew the feeling.)

Oblivious, the upstart page
Went on with his digression:
"If we paid serfs a decent wage
We'd fix the world recession.
And in five years (if we're on track)
I can foresee us ending
Most child deaths -- with a slight cutback
In military spending."

Well, that was it. He'd crossed the line.
"Sit down!" All through the hall
The voices rose (and loudest, mine);
The speech became a brawl.
My colleagues all began to shout;
The glares were like a laser;
Security soon dragged him out.
(They had to use the taser.)

So we all know who was to blame.
It's not what I intended.
(In fact I'm deeply shocked; he came
So highly recommended.)
Well, needless to confirm: he's through.
Escort him to the borders,
And find a page who won't try to
Elaborate on orders.

***

(End of Part 2.)

For the Children of the Sandy Hook Tragedy (December 15)

Down brightly shone the morning sun
Upon a little girl and boy,
And as the day was new begun
They played and spoke of Christmas joy.

And when the clock began to chime,
In Mother came and heard them sing.
  O Mother, what is Christmastime?
And what shall Christmas morning bring?

  At Christmastime the snow gleams white;
We celebrate the Saviour's birth;
And Santa Claus on Christmas Night
Brings children toys all o'er the earth.

So ring the room with boughs of pine,
And burn the candles bright and clear,
And trim the tree with silver shine:
No evil thing may enter here.

All feel the Joy the season brings,
All sing the songs of Peace and Love --
For at fair Christmastime all things
Are well on earth, with God above.

  The little girl skipped off to play,
Each doll a Christ Child newly born;
And as she dreamt of Christmas Day
Her brother went to school that morn.

The phone rang shrill, the mother cried,
The sirens screamed in ceaseless wail;
They brought her to her brother's side;
Like ice he lay all cold and pale.

  O Mother, Mother, answer why --
What of the tales I heard you tell?
Were all the songs of Joy a lie?
Is all at Christmastime not well?

  The silence fell like heavy stones;
Then as the winter winds that blow
She heard her mother's whispered tones
That cracked and broke and murmured low.

  At Christmas many know no Love;
No Santa comes on Christmas Eve;
And that there dwells a God above
I know not if I do believe.

And some go hungry, some grow old,
And there is fear and death and pain;
Some have no mother's hand to hold;
And soon the snow may all be rain.

Then ring the room with boughs of pine,
And burn the candles bright and clear,
And trim the tree with silver shine:
Yet evil still may enter here.

The terrors lurk, the shadows prowl
Around our wreath of candlelight;
Beyond our warmth the wild winds howl;
The day is dark, and swift the night.

December 14

  Some say, on that first morning of Christ's birth
An unseen voice swept over land and sea
Crying mournful, Pan is dead --
The Great God Pan is dead;

   And ever since, the ancient gods have dwindled;
Exiled by cold iron or cathedral chimes,
Hiding in deepest cave and shadowed forest
Waiting silent for a change of days
And for their own dominion to return.
   And, 'tis true, their altars lie untended;
No ecstatic initiates dance Pan's mysteries
And Adonis goes, now, unwept each spring;
The Sybil's cave lies hollow and empty
To echo only the dreams of ages past.

   But I imagine, instead:
Before sunrise on that first Advent morn
Another group assembling in the stable
Amidst the kneeling shepherds and kings
(Unseen to the mortals rejoicing there) --
That tall silent figures lit by inner starlight
Gathered in awe around the little bed:

   That Artemis laid down her silver bow, Aries his sword
Poseidon his fierce earth-shaking trident
And rough Haephestus, tears glinting in his eyes,
With one craggy hand gently stroked the child's brow;
That Athena bowed to Wisdom itself, Aphrodite to Beauty,
And Eros to a Love greater than any his arrows held;
That Pan and Hermes, laughter and trickery forgotten, fell solemn,
That great Apollo removed his brilliant crown
And even grim Hades in silent salute lowered his head --

   And others came, from distant times and places
Osiris and Tiamat, Lugh and Mithra
The dark and light, the ancient and young gods
Of hillside and stream, flower and flame
All burning with the steady glow of eternity
And bending low in joy before the manger;

   And Zeus the Sky King, kneeling, spoke:

  O Creator, All-Mother and Father
Beyond even the Earth and Sky that gave us birth --
At last, the long-awaited day has come:

   We abdicate our power

   Long we nurtured this strange newborn race
On which your divine favour rests
We saw their first footsteps in desert sand
Heard their first words, as they spoke
No longer in the tongues of beasts, but gods;
We sent Prometheus with the spark from heaven,
Demeter with her golden grain, Athena her skills
And, yes, watched many a Pandora,
Man or woman, loose the bounds of evil;
Then to Aries the multitudes paid homage
And helpless we watched young and old perish.

   Long they worshiped us, long feared us
Our wild power, cruel capriciousness
Long entreated us when overwhelmed
By storm or drought; love or war
With ritual and revelry, seas of sacrificial blood,
Fervent prayer and hushed mountain oracle
Crying out to us to stay our hands
But we cannot act other than our nature;
Imprisoned in immortality, we may never change

   But now their infancy has passed

   Now a new age is begun
And another covenant is written
For you have come to take their shape
No longer need they worship us, the Gods of the earth
For their own God dwells among them

   And in their maturity and growing knowledge
They may divine our secrets
Plumb the source of our power
Of sun and lightning, ocean and sky,
And shape strange new dreamings beyond our ken --
For you have willed nothing should be hidden from them

   We ask this alone:
   That you grant they should not despise us
They shall dwell among us, but not above us:
Their elder brothers and sisters, guides and teachers
No longer their masters, but neither their servants
The creation is not theirs to exploit
And our realms are not theirs to destroy
And if they abuse their power, we shall rise.

   …And the child glanced from one face to another,
And cooing gently, smiled his consent.

December 13

Midwinter Nocturne

...Now is the time of contrast and incision.
Sleet hardens, and the smooth crust tolerates
No imprint. Underfoot the fresh snow grates,
Each flake wrought in sharp-faceted precision.
The falls hang frozen in eternity,
Sound sharpens; bright, the winter starscape rises,
And all that summer mingled, crystallizes
Into its unalloyed identity.

The tracery of woven light on dark
Each night more keen; like, gossamer, my breath
Emerging from the air, I hear a voice:
"The paths of hope and terror, life and death,
Divide now. -- And, humanity, your choice?"
…The whispered words like splintered ice are stark.

December 12

I quit.
            I've handed in my resignation --
This job is one continual aggravation;
I'm feeling uninspired.
It's time that I retired;
I've given it, yes, due consideration.

And on this all-too warm December night
The sleigh is loaded for the final flight.
Half-finished toys are packed;
The workshop tables stacked.
For once (thank God) we're going to travel light.

Old Rudolph and the others look relieved;
(I feel the same, though I'll admit I grieved) --
I very well recall
That every year, come fall,
They'd gotten grumpy and the elves all peeved.

Each morning brings a starving polar bear;
The pools of melting snow are everywhere;
The ice floes keep on shrinking,
My workshop's started sinking,
And none of you much really seem to care.

So off we'll travel to a distant land;
I'll miss the children's letters (done by hand),
Toys built and wrapped with love,
The Northern Lights above --
But soon there won't be any place to stand.

O for those first flights, once upon a time
When to the echo of some silver chime
Into the air we flew
To soar on southward, through
A starlit sky still free from smog and grime.

Now from the sleigh we peer down through the gloom
(Our noses running from some deadly fume)
To see the trees replaced
With pits and sludge and waste
That bear a strong resemblance to Mount Doom.

And having felt for years in endless volley
The consequences of your global folly:
An Earth that's deathly sick --
This jolly old Saint Nick,
Though older now, is quite a bit less jolly.

Don't get me started, too, on my frustrations
With iPhones, DVDs, Wii's, and Playstations...
Who vetoed books and trains?
I fear for children's brains
(And, even more so, their imaginations).

I'm sick of simply bringing what I'm told;
Deliverymen are not supposed to scold.
You write the list, I trim it --
But now I've reached my limit.
Who'd give an iPod to a 4-year old?

And -- CEOs -- the workers that you hire
To make those soaring profits you admire,
For just a buck a day:
I'd think that you could pay
To stop them all from dying in a fire.

The earth's not something we can Supersize
Unlike the rest of what you advertise.
(You think your life's a bore?
That's right, go shop some more.
Don't call me when the oceans start to rise.)

And you elected reps that can't stop squawking
To drill and burn the fossil fuels you're hawking...
Perhaps you'll change your mind
When you wake up to find
A lump of coal inside your Christmas stocking.

The world should have enough to go around...
But human greed just knows no upper bound
(Nor is my sleigh expanding;
With all that you're demanding
This year, I doubt we'd get it off the ground.)

You've quite mistaken my intent, I fear.
I said: spread love and joy and Christmas cheer,
Not this mad rush of buying…
I guess I'm done with trying.
You'll have to find your own goodwill this year.

December 11

They say on that first Advent night
As shepherds shuddered, felled by light,
The choirs of angels through the sky
In voices pure and sweet did cry:

"Fear not!

Fear not, O poor humanity -
No - cease to tremble, rise and see
His love as light from heaven stream.
Flee, Wrath, for Mercy reigns supreme!
We sing tonight of boundless joy.
To you is born a baby boy
In Bethlehem: this Shepherd King
Shall bear your sins through suffering.
Beneath his reign all strife shall cease -
Goodwill to all, and on earth peace.
Lo! Christ is come with you to dwell,
The Lord of Love, Emmanuel."

                             ***

Since then have passed two thousand years
And more. Yet still, as that night nears,
New voices echo all around
To lull us with their gentle sound
And all the Advent season long
Peal forth their reassuring song:

"Fear not!

Fear not the lies of man's devising,
Of climate change and oceans rising;
Come hurricane or drought-parched land -
Our great God has it all in hand.
If ice caps melt, if forests burn,
'Tis but to hasten Christ's return.
Rejoice, then, and be ne'er dismayed!
The earth and all on it was made
For us alone. Come greater need,
He'll give us more. What sin, then, greed?
So, Christmas shoppers, comfort ye
And go, consuming joyfully."


O Church, O wondering world, what shall we do
To tell the fallen angels from the true?