Snapshot of a Dreaming Pine

SNAPSHOT OF A DREAMING PINE The pointy pinnacle waits upon the ground - grinning, leaning against a kitchen ladder. Strung, but not lit, its dreams are found of spherical ornaments revolving around this needled pine, and a linen angel sitting aloft, proclaiming Christ’s birth. So vivid, the dream, where stars light the sky. A carpet of crimson red rolled out for the famous one of Israel, for he’s come to save. This brilliant sunset, the only decoration on this cold winter night: a babe lies upon hay, like a sacrificial bleating lamb, a swaddled form. Dew upon the pine, drips from its eyes. He sniffles but God’s voice so sweetly says, “these things must be, it’s the only way to present humanity to me.” From my place upon the ground, I look up, to wonder - and see my reflection, a proper cap placed upon pine, where a cross-shaped star shines, with sudden brilliance. I awake with shivers and a smile, not feeling at all small. Humble, on my rugged knees, I passionately praise, so loud that lights without power ignite and I joyfully shake. And the little girl and boy, who rub their eyes, think a draft has caused these branches to whisper. Not witnesses of this colorful sight, yet they feel a sudden heartfelt warmth. Kim Rodrigues (c) 2016