A Christmas Message

As I have grown older I have had to define what my relationship
to the holiday season is. My mother said 'Christmas is for the
children." In a certain sense she is absolutely right. We generally
skew the Christmas holiday towards giving presents to children
and young ones. This material expression of love is a benign thing
if kept in check. As time has gone on I have grown fully disinterested
in the material aspect of the holidays. That is not to say that I do not
still desire material things, I do, but I prefer to get for myself that
which I want instead of placing expectation on others. The sentiment
I carry this season is the idea of spending time with those you love.
Those family and friends whose presence in your life is truly the gift.
The importance of creating experiences and memories is something
that we can always carry with us through the changes in this sea.
We are now in Winter, the season of cold, the season of a barren
land. In earlier times there was much to fear in this time. In our age
it feels more a stark reminder that we should always prepare for
lean times before Spring brings the new dawn. I suppose this has
been a wordy, roundabout way of saying Merry Christmas and
Happy Holidays, no matter what you do or don't believe, or who
you're spending it with. Chances are I'm grateful for your continued
presence in my life and the chats and things we have yet to do
together. You are the gift, today and always. Take care, Everyone.
Love you.

A Season of Unrealistic Expectations

In The Heart of Winter / The Summer of My Life

The winds have calmed
their anxious conversations
from last night. I listened
in as I fell asleep
and wondered what
they were upset about.

It is Christmas morning
and much has changed
since I was a child waking,
ready to rip apart presents
carefully placed under
our artificial tree.

I have grown to know
love cannot be measured
merely through gifts.
Love is far greater
than any physical object
that can be desired.

My youngest brother
is still young enough
to take part in the ritual
of gifts under the tree.
I am happy it is still
a part of his life.

I don't need much,
don't ask for much,
don't expect much.
I am content
to wake each morning
and see the sun.

Light shines through
my window
and lands upon
my desk.
A gentle, steady
reminder.

Other Windows

His father suffered a heart attack 

several weeks ago.

When he was in the hospital

they discovered 

he had stage 4 lung cancer.

My friend was told in November

that she has stage 2 breast cancer.

We are the same age.

She is married and they have

a young daughter.

My father is almost sixty

and still works two jobs.

We had breakfast on Christmas

morning. My sister who is 

a registered nurse was at work. 

My seven year old brother opened

his presents while my father

took pictures with the camera

that is older than all of his children.

He was as happy as we all were then.

A Love Poem

Because I live and breathe

I bleed

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I laugh

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I am alone

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I am loved

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I am cold

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I am tired

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

I miss someone

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

my imagination runs

from time to time.


Because I live and breathe

my heart beats

all the time.


Because I live and breathe

I think about you

all the time.

The End of the Season

There is only this and nothing more.
She shut off the lights and lay quietly in the dark.
Outside a car killed its as two hands rubbed each other for warmth.
A few blocks away the bartender at the neighborhood bar
poured out shots of cheap whiskey for herself and the old man.
A policeman sat in his patrol car waiting for the next speeding
car or suspected drunk driver.
The neighbors next door were mourning their son who
was never going to come back from the war.
Across the street the godless couple sat comfortably
watching a movie together no worse for the wear of the season.
The neighborhood kids who lived in the apartments behind
the house were quiet for once.
The old grandmother a few doors down could only hear
the silence of memory, alone and encapsulating her
more wholly than death ever could.
The streets and freeways flowed smoothly
as bodies everywhere stayed at home with
friends, family and assorted loved ones.
The beaches had grown cold and dark,
the seagulls finally at rest.