The bleak sable night:
Leaden blanket drapes the world —
Supernova hope

Many points of light
shine through blue streaks of hoarfrost —
One star leads the way

Tangy, pungent, sweet
tastes and smells fill frosty air —
The solstice scented

Lawrence Hall, HSG
Mhall46184@aol.com

                        The O Antiphons, the Star, and Us

Solstice is not a time when the sun stands still
But rather a season when the sun stands aside
That we may better know the mysteries of deep night
In darkness just before deep Light returns

Out in the cold, and warmly wrapped in hope
We pray the O antiphons as we scan the sky
For the prophetic Star we long to see
The Star that guides us in our wanderings

Solstice is that season when the sun stands aside
So that eternal Dawn may then abide

It was a hot summer day
And I asked what your favorite season was
You said it was winter, you loved the snow
And that if there was a blizzard, we'd both go

So we came up with a plan
When the winter solstice took place
We'd go out into the snow
And we'd talk in the flurries and so

I waited for the winter solstice
And when it came, a blizzard did too
And I ran into a snow-covered field alone
The cold wind chilling me to the bone

I waited for you to come
And I waited for hours on end
And while my teeth chattered, and my hands turned blue
My heart warmed just thinking about you

And I waited until the disappearance of the sun
When I finally realized you weren't gonna come
But it was too late, the cold had touched my heart
And it stopped and would never again start

I went down those stairs,
And through that door,
Between the ancient columns
Of old and forgotten stone.

The air was made of crystals.

Hope danced above,
And around,
Flickering golden and silver
In the cold winter lights.

The air was made of crystals.

I could feel again,
As if the numbness thawed
In that single moment
Spent by the fireplace
Of someone willing to
Listen.

The air was made of crystals.

And I went down those stairs,
And through that iron door,
And past those frost covered columns.

And the air was made of crystals.

granule
a glint
then, in love
a grenade of sunlight
the morning is sharply taken
bathing off of shots    from the reflective snow

Please, Santa Claus, come

to me in Salvador, come --


on your camel-sledge.