Christmas Eve

Photo by S. Auberle

My traditional Christmas Eve message, a day early this year, as I'll be busy tomorrow eve.  Fra Giovanni's letter, written in 1513, still says all I would like to say, only better.  I wish for you, my friends, a peaceful and blessed holiday, and drink a toast to your health and happiness in 2016!

I salute you. I am your friend and my love for you goes deep. There is nothing I can give you which you have not got. But there is much, very much, that while I cannot give it, you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in today. Take heaven! No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instance. Take peace! The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. Take joy! Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty...that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven. Courage then to claim it, that is all! And so I greet you, with profound esteem and with the prayer that for you, now and forever, the day breaks and the shadows flee away.

                           ~ Fra Giovanni, Christmas Eve, 1513

In Memoriam

Photo by S. Auberle

DECEMBER, 1941

I imagine my mother that night

December 7, 1941,

listening to the radio:

Glenn Miller’s String of Pearls,

Edward R. Murrow, wishing the world

good night and good luck,

breaking news…

the bombing of Pearl Harbor.

My mother’s hands are folded

on the mound that is me,

that pulsating cord connecting us.

Do I sense her fear,

feel the tightening, the pain?

Beneath her dress I float,

extending a hand, a foot now and then,

wanting reassurance, perhaps

that all will be well

and my mother strokes her belly,

thinking of Japanese women

and their babies soon to be born,

as I will be three months later…

I have not yet lived long enough

to see world peace.

So many never have the chance.

~  Sharon Auberle

an old poem I haven't posted for awhile, but it seems a good time to do so...

Mixed Media by S. Auberle

NO MAN’S LAND

December 24, 1914 – the last known Christmas Truce 

Somewhere in Belgium

a German soldier, his face

not so different from yours,

lays down his gun   

steps out of the trenches

and begins singing…

            Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht,

            Alles in schlaft, einsam wacht

The man is very cold

and very, very brave.

In the stink of blood and mud

he knows what love is.

He listens for the hiss of bullets,

the rattle of artillery fire,

then realizes the night has grown silent.

            ‘round yon Virgin, Mother and child

            Holy Infant so tender and mild

Other soldiers join him

in that No Man’s Land between,

their raw voices cracking in the cold.

Soon British soldiers begin

laying down their weapons,

joining in the hymn.    They bring gifts

of cigarettes and drinks to share.

Perhaps the men touch,

reach out shaking hands

that no longer hold death,

instead, pour tin cups of whiskey,

send smoke up to the stars

like prayers to a god, in whom,

forever after, if  they survive,

they want to still believe. 

            Sleep in heavenly peace…

~  Sharon Auberle