The Wednesday Poem

Fremantle Shipping News is pleased to bring you The Wednesday Poem.

In this feature we post poems by Freo and Freo-connected poets and those who may not call themselves poets but love writing poetry or having a go!

Today, we are pleased to bring you Your gift this Christmas by Christine Owen.

Your gift this Christmas

You sniff and scorn the spending,
the crowds, the superficiality.
The worship of an ever out of reach god-idea.

Later in the heat of the gathering, you
long for peace, not giving much heed to
the proffered gold, frankincense and
myrrh, though you seemed to get
a lot of incense this year.

But baubles and tinsel do insist on
sparkling, as you do too, eventually.
And as candles light so do your eyes
and you find yourself, in odd minutes,
strangely full of love. Christmas is wrapped in it, it seems.

In the middle of laughter over terrible
cracker jokes, in the warmth
of doorway hugs and smiles, in dinner-
table swerves around tricky topics and
before the amazed gaze of a still-believing child, you send a quick,
fervent, atheist prayer for the world’s troubles to just STOP.

The shiny bauble on your tree reflects
your face obscured, warped and
stretched over its concave surface.
It makes you laugh. The past, wreathed
in sparkling tinsel, has been rehung,
re-prettied, for yet another year.

Love for oneself and for others it seems
is the brightest – almost reachable –
star in this friendly firmament. But here’s the small print.

Love given brittle and overly-shiny
will shatter into a thousand
light-scattering shards –
cutting the feet of children –
If not swept quickly away.
Give love that is resilient, not brittle.

Love that is plastic in garish colours will
lie broken in the corner within a day.
There is no return policy for cheap love.
Give love that will last a long time.

Love, noisy and brash,
Will quickly be wrested away
(someone please hide that toy drum!)
Give love of quiet momentousness instead.

Love cannot be
as fragile as a bauble,
and as inconsequential as
the tinsel around one’s neck.
It must not be given as if by a distant god.

So this Christmas (as in your life)
give love that is true and strong,
reusable, sustainable and recyclable.

Give love truly, not lightly, this Christmas.

*By Christine Owen

Christine Owen is a published poet and FSN contributor