Christmas

We are shepherds, you and I,

not Angels or Magi.  We tend

to our hearts and souls, minds

and bodies, gains and losses, joys

and sorrows, dreams and desires,

regrets, the story of our lives.

Like the shepherds we are, we 

are outside the city gates.

We see the star Herod has 

heard of but has not seen, hear 

the song of Angels, put the two together

and go to see what we can only call

a mystery: that union of the divine and human,

that promise of if so once how 

so not always.  The murmured

response, “Like us.”   How curious

the mark of a cross on the infant’s back.

We see all we need to know,

return to the hills to greet the dawn.

-Byron Hoot

http://hootnhowlpoetry.com/

Walking on Water

The freedom of not being

tied to the past feels 

like a boat unanchored

in a storm until you get

your water legs and walk

on the water placing one

foot and then the other

between, upon the waves,

the ebb and flow of what 

swells up from above,

below.  It’s difficult to do;

harder to learn the dances

the improvisation of now

invites you into.  The sign

to hell may read, Abandon 

all hope who enter here.  But

the sign to paradise says,

Abandon the past that will

not let you dance on the waters

of life.  I’ve always fancied 

myself as a dancer 

especially now walking

on the water.

-Byron Hoot

hootnhowlpoetry.com