Orion’s torso lies diagonally
his belt etched out in one, two, three
Pearly studs that break the blackness
Here below, dampened pockmarked pavements
sparkle in sodium mustard yellow
jaundicing hands casting soft shadows.
I am alone, it is Christmas, I am alone.
Shopping trolley forlorn
casually abandoned on the lawn
adds to the general air of neglect
though the tidy fences suggest otherwise.
That’s suburbia for you.
In the bleak midwinter, not that long ago
woe on woe –
forget the mistletoe; I am alone
when circling thoughts made moan
and empty souls lacked hope and home
was not where their hearts were –
they followed a star.
But you Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small
And Elizabeth, though you are barren
And Mary, though you are nothing
will all have your parts to play
Don’t give up; you’re entirely instrumental
and there’s so much more to keep living for.
For “the people walking in darkness
have seen a great light”,
And “for those who lived in the land where death casts its shadow”
a hope has dawned
Don’t give up. Wait the winter out.
He’s on his way.
“And in these dark streets shining
an everlasting light
the hopes and fears of all the years
are met in thee tonight.”