CHRISTMAS EVE 1967
How cold it is outside tonight…
How crunchy, crispy cold.
A snow has fallen, soft and light,
Upon the fall of old.
The haloed moon above the pine
Gives snowy shapes below
A glistening, sparkly, silv’ry shine…
The very air’s a-glow.
The trees and shrubs are cased in rime…
The stately spruces proud;
The earth’s asleep this wintry time,
And stillness rings out loud.
What is it now for what I yearn
Alone this Christmas Eve,
As to the snow and ice I turn
From warmth of cabin eave?
As on my cabin porch I pause
To listen in the cold,
I ask the sky about the cause
Of wars--of hate--of getting old.
I ask the sky--I wonder why?
For what? No god I know…
Yet maybe out there secrets lie
That tell why life is so.
Perhaps an omen from the skies?
A sign this Christmas season?
Yet, here, before my eyes, it lies…
Defying depths of reason.
The rime-cased bush is deadly cold
A sprig of buds I borrow;
The swollen shells their promise hold---
The lilacs of tomorrow.
Susan Martineau--December 24, 1967
I know I posted this last year, and have used it ever since 1967 when I spent my first Christmas alone in my llittle log cabin at 40 degrees below zero. It is pathetic that I haven't written a Christmas poem that I have liked since that time! Perhaps this evening should be the time for me to construct or conjure up a new one. This one never fails to bring me back to that night, when I felt so at one with my surroundings, and so proud to be surviving in the deepest cold I had ever experienced to that point. I could be outside for just a few short minutes at a time, but it was spectacular out there with my breath freezing as I exhaled, and falling about me in my own snow shower! I kept that sprig of lilac buds for a long time until they finally just disintegrated. But the lilacs that June were extra special.
I am hoping for an enjoyable Eve time for all of us, regardless of where we might be. There will be gazillions of memories coursing through the night tonight, and we need to savor each and every one of them.