JUBILANT FATHER
His face is like a sun, warms the moon beside him.
She´s grown full; tonight begins the waning.
The tide pulls through her very bones,
her form aches as each wave crests.
The earth pulse, heavy, blood warm within her
Beats new chords, old sun god chants.
"You are the first mother and the last,
all spring flesh has traveled through you."
Aztec plumed and gold beaded,
your priest kneels at the holy alter,
gathers each salt pearl shed, nectar for his sacrament.
You are the temple,
we pilgrims swept through the gates,
bent figures know the scent and petals of your presence,
spread our arms to harvest blossoms,
and your priest, sun struck, kneels beside you.
A long time ago, on a ranch on a hill, I found out a secret, that I cherish still. On a cold snowy night,late,Christmas Eve, I gathered some cookies and milk to leave. Jingling bells, I snuck down the hall. The fireplace shadows danced on the walls. But it wasn't Santa, it was Daddy instead. So, I started to cry as he put me to bed. He tucked me all in and wiped off my tears, Lay down besides me to speak in my ear. He told me he loved me,we hugged and I sighed. Then whispered our secret,that filled me with pride. My sisters and brothers, many gifts by the tree, I smiled as they laughed,it was different for me. I think I was five, when I found out that way, Our little secret is more special today. Now Christmas mornings when Dad looks in my eyes, He knows that our secret is safe deep inside. I will be there with his heart-beats last-tick. For my loving Dad is really, St. Nick.
