She’s asleep in the next room; I wonder what she’s dreaming.
The stars won’t send word. The moon keeps her secrets forever.
Christmas lights in the house next door, candy colored and lurid.
I would crown her with those colors, those lights, that sense of peace.
`Christmas morn, but too early, even for greedy and restless children.
Peace on Earth, but not for a troubled heart, without her embrace.
Peace on Earth, but not for tonight, or this world, or the saintly many.
Just words mouthed without meaning, without beginning, pious tinsel.
She is sleeping, or so I imagine. Maybe she’s us unsettled as I am, sleepless.
I still wish I could escape into her dreams, I believe it to be such a happy world.
If not happier, something human and dark and sweet like that first passion.
Passion that bleeds skin and taste like a fruit hidden, but always found with time.
Peace on Earth, but never here with hearts of fire and rage and loss and hunger.
With people wanting to quiet down that demon calling name, calling her down to here.