Gail White
Christmas On Rhodes
What am I doing here with all these
Greeks? Hoping, perhaps, at midnight Christmas Eve, the
unintelligible tongue God speaks will summon even those who don’t
believe to Mary’s manger. Now the Virgin bears the Master in
the cave. As light through glass he passes from her body.
Joseph dares believe the story; I can let it pass. The incense
rises like the church’s breath into the frosty air. This night of
birth swells to a tide that tosses me past death; but tides
recede. I know this moment’s worth: If love of beauty were the
same as faith, I’d walk in heaven with my feet on
earth.
Spoken By A Ghost
I’m here beside you, but it’s not the
same. I’m out of time, although I’m still in space. If only you
would call me by my name,
I’d step out like a portrait from its
frame And we could look each other in the face. I’m here beside you,
but it’s not the same
As when I was alive. We’ve lost the
game That lovers play while they can still embrace. If only you
would call me by my name,
I could respond. My dear, I’m not
to blame If you keep looking in an empty place. I’m here beside you,
but it’s not the same
For you, I know. There’s nothing to
inflame Your love in me, nothing to spark the chase. If only you
would call me by my name –
But it’s too late. I’m sorry that
I came. I didn’t know death was so commonplace. I’m here beside you,
but it’s not the same. If only you would call me by my
name.
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