Here are Christmas poems that I do every year.
On a billboard on a highway
From Georgia to Alabama.
God photographs this billboard,
To transport in visions to saints
Like Heloise and other mystics in visions.
That God gathers up the vapors
From the visions,
And displays them in zero year in
With nowhere to sleep,
Joseph and a very pregnant Mary
Gives birth with animals and kings
To welcome them.
So we celebrate in song and ritual,
Reenacting the story
Replacing the Holy Family
On the frozen streets of Portland.
The Holy Family
The Holy Family shiver next to a ditch in June 24,1941.
Their final resting place.
Machine gunned in a Ukraine village trench where a pregnant
Mary and Joseph fall in the ditch
Where Jesus squeezes out of
Mary’s womb and cries.
Jews killed by Nazi forces.
The baby is gathered up by
Villagers who raise the child Russian Orthodox.
He struggled against Stalin, writing poetry
Like Akhamanova, finally picked up
And tortured to death in one NKVD
His stepmother sits with other mothers
outside the prison:
Praying, giving out flyers, asking
Other mothers to stand with
In silent protest.
Christmas Poem, 2018
The Christ baby,
The Virgin feeds Him,
Joseph shelters them.
Later God transplants them
Into the 12th Century where the drama
Is played out in stained glass in
France, Italy and Germany.
Then in zero year in Israel,
They flee into Egypt
Where the dreadful story begins
Again, ending in His crucifixion.
But today, let us celebrate the
December 9, 2018