Monday, December 24, 2018

Visitation (24 December; Mid-Night)

[A tale of Nicholas and the Elves]
                                                                                                                                   
           
Over the heath and through the wood,
all wassailed of the glistening snow_
Saint Nicholas came with Reindeer
and a troop of Elves in tow!
Past the WellSpring of the Saints,
he came with Holly & some Bay_
to winnow the wights out of the World,
and with the Spirit’s poor to play!                              1

He slung his sack with some delight
across a horse‑and‑rider fence,
and came approaching toward the house
making madness of mundane sense!
He had a broom of thistle & heather,
and a cap full of pomegranates;
within his sleeves were glowing secrets
from which True Hope originates!                               2

Climbing the chimney, he set about
divining the household’s aura.
He hung about the cold doorposts
with Ivy Wreaths of supernal giving!
The Reindeer were yet invisible,
the Elves were gasping in giggles_
as snow began to uncover the Night,
and the Spirit spread out Her riddles!                        3

Three windows with a candle’s glow
loomed above the empty portico,
alerting visitors to awakening souls;
the Children playing out their roles!
The Reindeer knocked upon the door,
the Elves they climbed the lattice_
Saint Nicholas turned into a mist,
and slipped in through old keyholes!                          4

Around the house the Visitor flew,
with Holly boughs and sweeping Yew_
He took the staircase with abandon_
while seeking out the chosen few!
He found their chambers open wide,
with hearts yet empty from inside;
He left them Pomegranates of Faith,
and Apples for a starry sleigh‑ride!                           5

“Hey, wait! _Nicholas, is that You!?”

One small voice dis‑spells a wraith,
as into deep crevices of the Night
Saint Nicholas and his Elves depart,
putting Reindeer, unseen, to flight!
Off across Fields‑of‑Life they flee,
leaving hoof‑marks in frosted snow_
White tails frisking prayers like Art_
the Moon chasing them with Her glow!

And in their stead a blessing’s found_
Runes of Life in the Fruit of Faith!!                           6
Amen.
‑ Montague Whitsel

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