ode to snowflakestree lights song. . . all the stockings are hung by the Chimney with care. . .ice skates, brick cardboard fire place hot cocoa and orange memory. Santa cookies sugar and icing. Nuts in a bowl for cracking. A box of chocolates. Poke. A carrot for Rudolph up on the rooftop and sing Frosty the Snowman and Dickens. . . it’s a Wonderful Life White Christmas –peace on earth goodwill toward men
and woman. Sweet clementines
In the bathtub on Saturday it comes to me a calling for wilderness. A sojourn walkabout drive all the way to South America across many borders. Across the portrayed realities of gunman and drama and fear. Into the possible the unknown the joyful abundance of challenge and shift and belief. To experience the tides as they rush in than out. Toe heart rushing through and away and over flowing the river floods and bleeds no bandage thick enough to sustain the violence say push push believe drive go open up gratitude kind truth like a Hallmark Card. Put down our weapons of mass destruction drone nuclear cold war pharmaceutical economy and help the butcher’s son the widow’s daughter. Make room for those who need. And that is all of us. All. Sweet juice dribble down our cheeks over our lips to love.
Brenda Roper is one of 6 writers and artists currently living in the oldest artist colony on Canyon Road in Santa Fe. Her work forthcoming in Cirque the Solstice Issue #7.