from the porch (continued series, tonight, is of course, some xmas holiday or something, I am told…), and without further fanfare, popcorn commercials or coming attractions (or an oddly sticky floor and just awful cup holders)…
Mustering up the muster to sit and write, on a xmas night, none the less, not a very xmas feel, at least in these parts (and I am not referring to my legs), cold enough but not quite cold enough, somewhat clear sky, not quite a full moon, everything seems just a bit less than it should, I guess the bloom comes off the rose at times, there have been those Rockwell scenes, the fire blaze, the cozy afghan blanket, gently falling snow where you could read the stories on the flakes themselves as they fell, no, not this year, and no saint nick, no jolly old fellow, just a myth, but not such a bad imagining, not such a bad thing, in a world sometimes grim, marred by pain, a jolly old fat man to bring presents mysteriously in the night, there are worse things to believe in, surely, no reindeer, not certainly in this metro shadow, we see the odd deer (or four), mere cousins of the north pole dweller reign, and no little laborers either (with their busy little hands), the only ones here are garden gnomes and they feel less genuine than their brothers (especially when said gnomes are busy trying to book me flights all the time), where is the harm in old saint nick? has he been reduced to an app just yet ? (I’m afraid to even google that to find out the answer) well, at least Norad stays in step with the season, tracking the sled even if just an exercise for Joshua, where is the harm in this quite affable fellow? maybe we should just tell the kids the truth, the truth that it is not the myth that needs belief, it is what lies underneath in the fabric of the thing, no, not the felt red sack or silly hat, or even the contemplation of a stranger sliding down a chimney (surely worse than a coal miner’s dime), what drives the sled? good tidings for the ride, the idea of giving with nothing in return (well, perhaps a tray of cookies in trade, fair enough), the idea, not the man, and children can know throughout the land that morning comes and gifts exchanged, they have the power within… to do the same.
be well everyone. and to all of you a good night.
(re-post if you like just link back, alright?) all eyes on this or anything I write are truly appreciated, thank you (yes you, that reader thing out there)
music? OK, I will be guitar nerdy and holiday-ey. (a new word damnit)
Shades of My Garden 