by ojo29 Dec 2013
My back never lies
I just choose not to hear,
Until it's truth runs out of patience
As will eases & fibres soften to the song of days becoming one,
It shouts me to my spine,
Your soul is misaligned!
Reduced to whispering to floorboards
My captor pauses scene,
The futility of my cupped hands leaking this performance,
Left holding bitter pips.
And now I see the tree with lost lifeblood how it saddens the stage
And I meet the pleading eyes of fairy tethered to tradition, no longer able to fly.
I've wrapped it all wrong.
It's Winter's wisdom that I crave.
The comfort of withdrawal into orange hold,
Languid in the inspiration of stillness,
Hearts fired with our connection to stone & green,
In the joyous breath of blood, born & found.
It’s Yule I honour with wish to celebrate amongst my one & all.
Oh here she goes again,
All weird-o hippy dippy bah-humbug Heathen.
Go on, label-tie me with all you've got,
I dare you to seek your answer,
What is with all this duty?
Sitting shoulder to shoulder with how it must be done,
Hearts' desires swallowed & smothered with foiled papers,
Empty traditions filled with calories,
Essence of it all misplaced in an alcoholic haze.
I pray for the deepest snow to shoulder doors shut,
To make them stop.
Turn off TVs & be with beliefs without price-tags,
Share joy without the capitalist exchange.
My spine has gifted me what has long held true
And I offer you to taste it too.
Past seasons I nodded to this but not brought it to my blood.
I've homework to do,
Type Yule search return.
So this is forewarning
Next year might be different & 4 days soon.
Joy, light & love.