We step into existence from beyond the veil
With our fate stamped upon our souls.
Marking distinctions between science and faith
We find ourselves advancing through the cycle of life.
The Leapster or Leap Year baby
Shares a joke with the cosmos
Flouting our concept of time
To be born within times eternal spring
In life's cycle of ever green
We look to the stars
In order to be seen.

What was it like oh God so great
To be an infant small?
Did You Weep, or did you sleep
And never cry at all?

What was it like sweet Mary
To ride the night so black?
Did you smile, heavy with child
Upon a donkey's back?

What was it like dear Joseph
To know your wife would bear
God's own son, but he'd be shunned
A man of many cares?

What was it like oh wise men
To see that light appear?
To go so far to find that star
Knowing God was near?

What was it like you shepherds?
To hear the angels sing?
Were you scared when they declared
The birth of Israel's King?

What was it like you angels
To see your mighty Lord
Lying there in a Manger bare
With no mantle? Sword?

Yet that night was joyful!
In ecstasy all sang!
Or instead they bowed their heads
While praise in heaven rang!

For now the great Messiah
Was born to Trumpets blast!
What was it like that special night

Our Savior's born at last!

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 12/25/2019 (rewritten)

young people,

they think nobody has the
same thoughts as them
they take great pride in some made up
originality

as if really nobody ever thought up
scenarios of themselves descending
some rope from some helicopter and
dropping in the middle of enemy forces and
starting to shoot around, all movie like ‘an ****
and killing all the bad guys while not
taking one bullet
One man army

or there’s those other thoughts
of being simply the greatest at some
sport and being admired and envied for it

also, the thoughts of *** in all its forms

the thoughts of mindless violence

of saving the day

of being somewhere else and doing something else

all kinds of thoughts
and all the minds who think them label them as original

but they’re not original

they’re every young person’s thoughts

and me,
I also have thoughts I consider original

I think of how it is to be old
pretty much every **** day
I think of me being old and dried up and weak
and waiting for death

it’s not a very pleasant thought
especially for someone in their twenties
but it’s my way of labeling my thoughts original

maybe in some wheel chair
with a nurse pushing me from behind
No kids
no family
no fortune
no achievements
a life wasted
death watching from above
mockingly

and myself looking up at it
smiling
*******, you think you got me
but little do you know that
while I was able, while I was more lively than
a rotting carrot
I defied you by ripping apart pieces of me
that will stick with the world
long after I’m gone

Oh, they might not be great pieces or even good ones
but behind they remain as you take me away

and all of them branded with my name
It’s through them that I am
immortal

and there’s nothing you can do about it

great, good
or bad,
you cannot **** a poet

you undress my heart
so delicately
untill I drown
breathlessly
in your embrace


love me as you wish