After Epiphany 3

There will not be a gay bonfire tonight
The outside animals were early fed
And early sheltered in their straw-strewn barn
To chew and low and snuffle through the hours

Then folks withdrew from duties and the dark
Into the house to hang their coats and find
A chair next to the stove; they sigh the time
And mourn the emptiness where was the tree

And linger drowsily over a Christmas book
There will be not be a gay bonfire tonight

After Epiphany 2

The stripping of the tree is almost Lenten
The ornaments gone, only “bare ruined choirs”
Remain, no comfort of carols or hymns
As it is dragged outside into the cold

It almost seems to shiver in the winter sun
Reduced to poverty and then to scraps
Which in the months to come enkindle then
An evening fire after the cows are milked

But not celebrated with festive lights
The stripping of the tree is almost Lenten

After Epiphany 1

Epiphany is the door into winter
Into those bleak, grey days, into the cold
When time itself is huddled in the dark
Asleep, suspended in the drifting mist

In clouds of icy mist among the trees
Above the somnolent, shivering earth
The brief, pale sun in silence disappears
The moon in silence rises high to watch  

Over a world asleep until far spring
Epiphany is the door into winter

“Until the First Star” - Orthodox Christmas Eve

The first star won’t be seen this night. The clouds
Obscure this fallen world, and seem to hide
The pilgrim paths to Bethlehem from all
Who seek their Saviour in the colding night

But yet the first star will be seen in truth,
In all the faces around the happy table
Gathered from field and forest, east and west,
Breaking the Advent fast with Christmas joy

And with the liturgies Our Lord is born
Beneath the star that will forever shine

The Feast of the Epiphany This Year

If the Three Kings were to visit today
They’d need the proper paperwork
Passports and visas, and what is the  purpose
Of your visit? A check through INTERPOL

A cavity search by rubbery hands
An escort armed with bribes and Kalashnikovs
Through tourists armed with me-phones, selfie sticks
And cardboard chalices, following a Starbuck’s

Searching the East for a wondrous ATM
If the Three Kings were to visit today

POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS

Another world beyond the yellow tape:
Chaos and smoke, confusion, blood, and pain
A wreckage of souls, cigarettes, and beer
Grim death encompassed within appointed bounds.

Some order on this side the yellow tape:
Cheeseburgers and fries, sodas in paper cups
MePhones uplifted in Hitlerian salute
Recording the pagan chant: “***!”

Sung by life’s postulants surprised to see
Another world beyond the yellow tape

Cuddly Carnivores

Why do we humans cuddle carnivores
Give names to yapping little quadrupeds
Who growl at socks and shoes and closet doors
And rumple all the covers on all the beds?

What possible use is a dachshund pup
Who chews whatever her tiny teeth reach
And what doesn’t digest comes right back up:
Little dogs are impossible to teach!

But in my arms my Astrid softly snores -
That’s why we cuddle baby carnivores