Another season...past the peace

Another season, past the peace. ©-MFB III



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The holidays,once more
will soon draw to a close,
like the curtains closed
by the hands of tiny tots,
who faced great disappointment,
in the wee hours of mourn,
at not seeing the mystical Santa,
and his eight tiny reindeer.

My world will be
a softly brushed canvas of white,
stretched by God
across all of the
Earth's framework around me,
displaying the emptiness,
as well as the promises of
a New year,
a pure place
where we can begin
fresh expressions,
and our deepest felt impressions,
both splashed, stomped
and etched in bold colors
across each day.

Near the curb
will lie
tribes of trees
as they pine away,
dripping icicles
each desolate and alone
expelled from the warmth
of a Christmas past
and soon to be fodder
for the landfills.
This I find saddest of all
these homeless evergreens
browning the pure white snow.
with their dying tears shed
in needled grief.

Thus 2010 will be born
amidst labor pains
in Iraq, and Afghanistan

with women
and babies
still screaming,
and young soldiers falling
to the soft thud of
death's thunderous coughs
spraying shrapnel, brass shells
and endless hail storms of lead.

Peace will not be gift wrapped
this year and offered to all,
it is in layaway
it is on hold,
waiting for the
right moment
to simply, and lovingly
wrap it up
at long last
in a presentable,
living and breathing delight
that will leave
women and children
breathless..... but healthy,
and send all young men
to plush recliners
to ponder war
its awful cries
it's futile tries
its uselessness
and its final demise.

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