Seven days before Christmas #1 “fresh snow”
swaddling nature’s crib
glistens in the night
Seven days before Christmas #2 “silent Night
toss and turn ’til morning
dreaming of reindeer
singing in the night
herald the newborn King
Seven days before Christmas #3 “decorations”
cinnamon and eggnog
Christmas long ago
scent of pine cones
tinsel and candy canes
holiday’s hope chest
Seven Days Before Christmas 2015 #4 presents
As young children, they started their list after Halloween. Mother would eavesdrop on their conversations of hopes and wishes. Watching her children stare at toy commercials, she’d revise the list over and over. Finally they posted each their list on the fridge door, checking it every day trying not to pout and do everything right.
On Christmas Eve, they set a plate of carrots and lettuce for Santa’s reindeer by the patio door and cookies for Santa with a glass a milk. The night before Christmas, they were tucked in early, promising to not get up even if they heard bells jingle, thumping in the living room or any long baritone mirth. The rule was to wait after the sun was up and tip toe carefully in the living room, if there was a late delivery. If they even saw a shadow of a burly man in a red suit, they were to dash back into their beds under the covers.
Since excitement made them rise early, the children were given permission to look at their Christmas stockings but wait for Mommy and Daddy before opening any other presents Santa left under the tree.
candy canes and mints
children’s Christmas kisses
Mother would wake up, lying in bed and smile, listening to the children whispering exclamations on their new finds; then they’d tiptoe in the bedroom wishing their parents a Merry Christmas and pleading to get up so they could open their presents.
gift of love
open hearts, compassion reigns
the newborn King
Seven days before Christmas #5 Peace
at the altar
fills each soul with grace
fit for a King
at the altar
nativity scene glows
babe in a manger
children’s choir sing with joy
divine child is born
© Tournesol ’15-12-23
Il est né le divin enfant (heavenly child is born)
Chorus: Il est ne, le divin Enfant, Jouez, hautbois, resonnez, musettes; Il est ne, le divin Enfant; Chantons tous son avenement!
1. Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous le promettaient les Prophetes;
Depuis plus de quatre mille ans,
Nous attendions cet heureux temps. Chorus
2. Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Que ses graces sont parfaites!
Ah! qu’il est beau, qu’il est charmant,
Qu’il est doux le divin Enfant! Chorus
3. Une etable est son logement,
Un peu de paille, sa couchette,
Une etable est son logement,
Pour un Dieu, quel abaissement! Chorus
4. O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Tout petit enfant que vous etes,
O Jesus! O Roi tout puissant!
Regnez sur nous entierement! Chorus
Refrain He is born, the Heav’nly Child, Oboes play; set bagpipes sounding He is born, the Heav’nly Child. Let all sing his nativity.
1. ‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Prophets have foretold His coming,
‘Tis four thousand years and more,
Have we waited this happy hour. Refrain
2. Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair,
What perfection is his graces,
Ah, how lovely, Ah, how fair.
Child divine, so gentle there. Refrain
3. In a stable lodged is he,
Straw is all he has for cradle.
In a stable lodged is he,
Oh how great humility! Refrain
4. Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Though a little babe you come here,
Jesus Lord, O King with power,
Rule o’er us from this glad hour. Refrain
(source : http://www.hymnsandcarolsofchristmas….)
More haiku on Peace
peace of mind
snow covered highways
last guests – home safe
last guest – home safe
bearing gift of mirth
rain slick highways
cloud mists from the sky
Seven days before Christmas #6 Mistletoe
Her parents had given her that first record player. It looked like an old portable typewriter case. How she loved it, carrying it over to her friends for sleepovers. She remembers her godmother giving her the single record, by Teresa Brewer. She played it so often, it skipped.
under the mistletoe
a smile is planted on her lips,
dreams of her first kiss
© Tournesol ‘15/12/23
TERESA BREWER – I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS
Seven days before Christmas #7 “Meditation”
Christmas Eve (haibun)
Something nudged me so early in the morning. It was pitch black outside and my mind was in a fog. I looked at the time and wondered why I was so wide awake at 5:45 am, since I’d been sleeping barely three hours. Well now, I thought, lying in bed trying to get back to my dream that was a bit of a mystery. Lots of running around like cat and mouse. Must be the detective flics I had been watching on Law & Order again. But sleep would not greet me and I realized then, it must be the spirit that was excited like a child. Things to do still on this Christmas Eve morning.
A bit of shopping and cooking today and Christmas dinner tomorrow with the most important people in my life, my children and grandchildren. Then I will be working a night shift at midnight; our manager invited us all to come in to work in our PJ’s…yes, that is another item I need to pick up…something funny and outrageous!
When I think about it, a whole 24 hours will be spent in love and compassion…the first half with my children and the second half,at our youth line with amazing caring colleagues.
It’s a privilege for me to take those calls…a window opens on holidays like this where I get to enter the world of other families who, for some, may be struggling this holiday season. Many youths wishing the two weeks off were over already so they can get some sense of normalcy in school with their friends. Time off can be entering a festive time, family and friends celebrating, holiday cheer; it can also be walking on a mine field trying to avoid explosions and turmoil. So yes, I feel privileged to be there.
The grey skies are an exception this time of year and I noticed at the Métro, these past few days there are less homeless people seeking warmth in the subways. The warmer weather is certainly a blessing to many who normally are out in the cold as we sit in the comfort of our homes with family and friends.
spirit of compassion glows,
© Tournesol ’15/12/24