DECEMBER NIGHT

Poem for Today - December 21, 2014

ORION

It’s a cold December night,
But for a change, the stars are out,
Sparkling as if recently polished because company is coming.
Orion reclines on the horizon
As if he really were a god tired of the rut.

The wind bullies the trees.
I like to think it’s caused by the confusion of angels,
Their wings beating at the speed of hummingbirds,
Flitting from those who pray for their own needs
Towards those who pray for others, then back again,
Never getting anything done.

But I know there are neither pagan gods
Nor confused messengers of light.
At the soul of this most beautiful universe
There is only the elemental elegance of vibrating strings.
And I know it’s true, because, on nights like this,
I can feel the sympathetic reverberations in my heart.

Yes, I know a wise man would go back inside his house
To the warmth of his family and friends
And explain these oscillations in terms they might understand,
Like the vibrations of the guitar strings he plays
As they sing Christmas carols;

And failing that,
Point to the tinsel which hangs from the Christmas tree
With the angel impaled on top,
And how the strands tremble as the model train encircles it.
To which someone says that it sounds like “Cat’s Cradle,”
And everyone laughs and drinks and feels better.

But this is not a wise man shivering out here,
Watching Orion get to his feet.

© Ron Yazinski