christmas cheer

did she think it would come to this,
i wonder?
i'm nearly confident it did
not cross her mind.

candles spread like a wave
from the front to the back
with whispers of peace,
joy, and a baby that never cried.
all that is required are
pleasant sentiments.

those who are
in the front smile bright.
couples matching, cute,
and wishing for the ideal
baby who never cries.

i sit in the back,
wondering about the real
baby who wailed
and if it would be
faux pas to use the flame
from my candle to light up.
not for a flame (deep, deep) in my heart
but for a cigarette for my nerves.

i say this a lot, and this isn't
my best.

but dammit i wish it was you
i was inhaling rather than
these flavored toxins
laced with rebellion and
disdain for all the obliged
greetings made by strangers
who recognize my surname.

i wonder what she was thinking,
trembling with her legs
open wide finally pushing
out the burden of carrying a
Messiah.
(was he heavier than the average newborn?)

she wailed, i'm sure,
and he followed.
how devastatingly ordinary.

he was born ill-equipped to
take over a kingdom;
carried no halo or scepter,
only trumpet wails.

he never stopped crying either:
when he skinned his knees,
and lost his best friend.
his life was so devastatingly
ordinary.

except that he was easily
taken in by those like us.
those who need.
he presence was
life, rich, full.
and later there were the
reversals of all that
devastated us;
he gave us miracles,
salvation,
life.

but, there was no grand entrance.
he simply lived.

i take solace
in his living
when i slip out
from the dimly lit
sanctuary
to satisfy
my selfish need.

i take care
to remember his
coming up unnoticed
and defying
all of our carefully
laid expectations
even in the midst
of heralding him in.

it somehow seems right that someone so ordinary could be the divine, the savior.