for all the times
when i don't know
what alliterations
i can use
to diffuse
this nagging sense
of bleariness
or what rhymes
i can steal
to feel anything
remotely Real
or rouse
this lagging sense
of weariness
when the usual signs
of the Season
only leave me empty
and resigned to grouse
and the typical refrains
of the Reason
only stir me to grieve
the mounting pains
arising from the losses
that just keep coming
and piling up
on my shoulders
even as the tunes
just keep humming
(like the camel
the Mother
supposedly rode
who carried
the Sacred Load
off the beaten track
over bumps
in the road
to a temporary abode
of stable and straws
that welcomed
the new Life
while almost
breaking her back)
and yet the thrumming
that could lead me
to succumbing
to the strains
of it all
rumbles something
deep within me
an ancient Rhythm
innately drumming
like that little boy
soothing the Child
meek and mild
by thrashing the hell
out of his shell
covered in calfskin
with reckless and relentless
and Wondrously wild abandon
which should have
sent the Child
into a tailspin
but only made Him
squeal and smile
and maybe provided
a protective shell
for wailing away
in a strange
yet soothing duet
a cacophonic convergence
of fears and tears
with rhumbas and release
flowing out freely
as sighs and cries
of Birth-aching Comfort
and Earth-shaking Peace
which will always
find us where
we are hiding
and guide us
with Acceptance
and Assurance
into a deeper
more centered Abiding
and remind us
no matter how much
the revealing wearies us
that our Journeys
are a series
of mounting losses
and gradual surrenders
and that Life
is truly found
in the grieving
and the leaving
and letting go
and laying down
like that Life
that left the womb
was destined for a tomb
yet wasn't trapped
there forever
and wouldn't have
transcended it
without first having
entered it
so the thumping
of our circumstances
upon our hinds
and our minds
does not malign us
but might align us
more primally with
the Pahrumpahpum-pumping
of the Rhythm
of Reconciliation
and Integrated Incarnation
from our Spirits
and our Hearts
through our veins
into our vision
to arouse us
to finally awaking
into the Light
that Incandescently shines
and Transcendently transforms
the dreariness
of the despairing
into the Radiance
of the Divine...
Thanks.
#400wordprayers #Xmastide2022
('Little Drummer Boy' © Tara Arnold)
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