christmas – Brock Stephen Henning

Starry-eyed Dreamers

Like stars on a tree
your mind sparkles
with dots of brilliance
Though darkness and void
far outweigh the specks
of dazzlement
But notice
globes and candy
and toys and tinsel
ornament the void
The void is material,
not empty
Matter exists,
not hopeless
Where there is matter
there is something,
not nothing
Where there is something,
even in empty
there is hope
See through the darkness
Stare into it
What do you see?
A reflection
Your face is beautiful
Wonderful
Your smile is joy,
not waiting,
existing in your heart
It calls to you
Not tomorrow
Today.

Flying Over Christmas Morning

Roads branch
into lanes
bearing fruit
of tiny farms,
a patchwork quilt.
Ten thousand feet.

Angels
blow smoke
over the hills,
settles
in ravines.
Twenty thousand feet.

A thin band
of yellow and red,
smudges
the horizon–
blue above, gray below.
Thirty thousand feet.

Angelic smoke
now covers all,
an untaut blanket
rippled with waves
frozen in time.
Forty thousand feet.

The white carpet
welcomes
His entrance,
too bright
in my window.
And holding.