-- Sleigh of Light --
John Herlihy
‘Tas night before Christmas and all thru the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stairs had settled into silence, quiet the eaves,
The bare branches, winter naked, on skeletal trees.
I sat in the bay window looking out into the night,
A grandfather clock ticked steadily nearing midnight.
The night cold and crisp, earlier a heavy snow fell,
Blankets of pure snow-covered bushes and nearby dell.
Old Nicholas, brave soul, had excitedly taken his leave,
Mandarins in his pointed cap, candy canes in his sleeve.
Reindeer sprung jauntily, breathing white smokey breath,
Down heights of heaven to the horizon in solemn breadth.
The night sky had cleared revealing its dark plate of light,
Twinkling stardust spread down the heavens this winter night.
The scene pitch dark, moonless, the silence held supreme,
The wind lifted dustings of snow, whispers heard in the gleam.
The eve flowed serenely into final minutes of the midnight hour,
The clock soon to strike midnight, invoking its mystical power.
The wind died down, the night breathless, nothing stirred,
The silence was palpable, only the crackling icicles were heard.
The symphony of silence lent of wondrous harmonies astute,
Filling the hearts of awe-struck earthlings gazing upward mute.
I among them, on this holy night, comparable to none other,
At peace in my home with brother, sister, father and mother.
When behold, along the grand promenade of the Milky Way,
Riding the downdraft of the North Wind, a bejeweled sleigh.
Bedecked not with the rare gemstones of the encrusted earth,
But sparkling motes of rainbowed light there to inspire mirth.
The beloved sleigh trailing stardust arising as if from nowhere,
Billowing from the reindeers’ hooves galloping somewhere.
The team of reindeer against the moonlight cast in silhouette,
The nimble animals breathing white and prancing in minuet.
While there in the carriage of the sleigh holding tightly the reins,
A solitary being, also in silhouette, standing over all he reigns.
A mythic persona of good will and cheer, traversing the globe,
Bestowing gifts of blessings down chimneys over which he rode.
The moon rose above the horizon with its otherworldly glow,
Reflecting as a river of light across the waters of a bay below.
The enchantment of the scene fell into the cave of my heart,
Filled with waves of contentment I wished would never depart.
The clock struck midnight, its tolling left my head in a daze,
Filled with the fantasy of the holy season as upward I did gaze.
It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house,
Not a single creature was stirring, not even the lowly mouse.
The midnight chimes again settled down leaving a quiet hush,
A moment of reflection, of peace, of thanks, without any rush.
A night whose sacred silence reminds us of who we really are,
On a journey beyond the horizon heading for the North Star.
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Copyright ©John Herlihy
Friday 23 December 2022
It's interesting to note that while the idea of Santa Claus comes out of the Middle Ages, the way we view his role in the Christmas story is very much wrapped up in the 18th century. And really hasn't changed much since. Maybe Santa Claus should have a new name, be wearing a totally different kind of spandex suit and flying a solar powered spacecraft. No reindeer required and his base on the Moon or Mars.
Ron