POEM: Christmas Eve Morning Poem

What does the cold morning bring to me?

The frigid gull in gentle glide,

a maizey kind of morning light

tossed to the floor like a rug.

A quiet like the first sign of breath

A deep drunk inside my head,

Spreading fingers to massage

the empty spaces in me.


What does the fragile sparrow bring to me?

New light feeding,

And new Love breeding,


Let us all practice salvation, starting today!

So that what shies from us this December

May soon grow tall and strong.