by: John Barr
Spiders in the cold,
bees in inarticulate bunches
hang from a day's work.
Waiting for light they wait
to see what they will be.
A tree lets down
green undersides and is maple.
A window glints--
a thing of saffron
kindles with singlehood.
In the broad yard
each thing dandles
its blue, its name, its consequence.
___________________________
Okay, so this poem isn't really wintery or Christmasy. But it is about light.
I'm on my second movie of the night--It's A Wonderful Life. My absolute favorite holiday film. Nothing can beat Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed. And it's about appreciating your life, even if things aren't necessarily going your way. George Bailey has been my hero for a long time.
For those of my disciples who are getting tired of hearing about my job worries, I apologize. I haven't had my George Bailey moment yet. Didn't get drunk and punch anybody. Haven't met my guardian angel. It does seem like I'm working at a Building & Loan at the moment. Mr. Potter breathing down my neck.
Saint Marty is ready to sing "Auld Lang Syne" and collect buckets of money
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