Mist

Several years ago I wrote a series of poems inspired by verses of Christmas carols. Since I won't be blogging this weekend, I've set these to post every so often instead. Merry Christmas! Season's Greetings! This one was inspired by "It Came Upon the Midnight Clear" and a VERY foggy day we had that year.

Still through the cloven skies they come With peaceful wings unfurled, And still their heavenly music floats O’er all the weary world; Above its sad and lowly plains, They bend on hovering wing, And ever over its Babel sounds The blessed angels sing.

the heavenly music floats high, high enough to catch sunlight, its pure white patches— distant through naked trees— puffed and fat with trumpets, or combed into pianissimo wisps.

and it came to pass that the weary world reached up, snagged the misty amens, clutched them close until puffs of angel song pooled in the valleys of chill, got tangled in gnarled branches making the weary wonderful, a suburb sublime.

you couldn’t see the fog all around you but you knew you must be in it because it rested like a lead apron, a comfort as you gulped down each damp chord thinking yes, this is what we begged for.