As you can see, the following poem was written when I lived alone over on the other side of the mountain from where my northern home is now, many moons ago! It was 40 below zero the night I wrote it, and I remember not being afraid I would freeze, nor do I remember even being lonely at that time. It was a challenge to just stay alive and see the morning sun. All I had for heat wqas a wood stove. The moon was huge and the lilac bush outside my porch was glistening with rime ice.
This is my Christmas card to you all, and, if you have seen it before, please forgive me---but I enjoy reading it every year and remembering that magical night alone in the woods with a moon making things seem sort of surreal.
Happy Christmas Eve 2012 to you all.
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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 glist'ning, sparkly, silv’ry shine…
The very air’s a-glow.
The trees and shrubs are cased in rime…
The stately balsams 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