is here again:
by choral singing
through the starlit streets
except for this time.
This bleak midwinter
all the streets shall fall
silent and all the carols
we must carry in our hearts;
gone are the jolly Christmas suppers,
the wintertime tree-branches
down to their bare bones.
draw a deep breath
and spare a thought
for all you have,
for those who live alone;
alone we enter this world
so they say, alone
we make our exit,
yet the miracle may be
to find ourselves
embraced by lovingkindness
Thank you to Ingrid for this covid Christmas poem.
Ingrid writes poetry, short fiction and journals at https://experimentsinfiction.com. She has had her poetry published in several anthologies, and also by Spillwords Press, Free Verse Revolution and Secret Attic.
She enjoys collaborating with other writers and encouraging poetic creativity with her EIF Poetry Challenge, which she hosts fortnightly at Experiments in Fiction.
What I like about this covid Christmas poem is the contrast between the reminder of what it should be, the tradition, in the first stanza and the harsh reality of the second stanza, both having eight lines, and then the deep breath in the thirteen-line final stanza, that asks us to think about the loneliness of others and make the most of the miracle of ‘lovingkindness’. I love the thought of carrying carols in our hearts – we do that all year round and then suddenly they bloom for Christmas, like well cared for poinsettias. The ‘wintertime tree-branches / down to their bare bones’ emphasise the season and this year’s starkness.
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Thank you Kim!
Ingrid, this is a beautiful poem of what is and what might be during this holiday season. And it’s lovely that you end with a message of thinking of others.
All the carols that we carry in our hearts makes me think of A Christmas Carol, and Scrooge awakened saying he will honor Christmas in his heart (or something like that). 😀
All the carols we carry in our hearts…surely that is the spirit of this and every season we need to hold on to. Your words in themselves are like a song. (K)
Captures what might have been and what is and doesn’t sugar coat the pill which makes the note of hope at the end even more effective!
Reblogged this on The Wombwell Rainbow.
❤ ❤ ❤ Such a beautiful poem and sentiment, Ingrid.