‘The Ultimate Christmas Gift’
“Maybe Christmas, the Grinch thought,
doesn’t come from a store.” —Dr. Seuss
By Susan Jarvis Bryant
This gift winks in the sparkle of the star
That tops the twinkling tree with spangled joy
__In honor of His boy—
The one who drew three Magi from afar,
And shepherds from their tasks and toils to gaze
__In wonderment
Upon a child more worthy of our praise
Than all the jewels strewn in the firmament.
This gift rings out in carols choirs sing
Of Bethlehem, a lowly cattle shed,
__A manger for a bed;
Of scintillating angels welcoming
The Word made precious flesh this holy day—
__A blessing sent
From Heaven—salvation cast our way—
A golden frankincense and myrrh event.
This gift lifts hoodwinked hearts to realms above
The toy-stuffed sled and red-nosed reindeer tales,
__To truth that never fails
To guide the meek who seek the glory of
Eternity beyond the curse of Earth.
__Love conquers death
For all who prize His gift and what it’s worth—
For us He gave His cherished Son’s last breath.
Susan Jarvis Bryant is a poet originally from the U.K., now living on the Gulf Coast of Texas.
‘Make Christmas a Verb’
By Mark F. Stone
For many, the gifts are the be-all and end-all:
the big screen, the tablet, the Barbie and Ken doll.
For me, gifts I get are like ice in the sun.
I cannot recall them. No, not even one.
How did I find a true way to remember
the import of each twenty-fifth of December?
The quest to acquire is an urge one can curb.
The lesson I learned was: make Christmas a verb.
Knock on the door of your neighbors who deal
with aging and loneliness. Bring them a meal.
If you have means and you live in fine fettle,
drop off some greens in that little red kettle.
Visit our vets who are hurt and express
your thanks for their service as they convalesce.
Deliver to others a luminous glow.
The gifts you will cherish are those you bestow.
Mark F. Stone worked as an attorney (active duty and civil service) for the United States Air Force for 33 years and is retired. He began writing poems in 2005, as a way to woo his bride-to-be into wedlock. His poems have been published by Light, The Ohio Poetry Association, The Road Not Taken: The Journal of Formal Poetry, the Society of Classical Poets, Whatfinger News, Ric Edelman’s The Truth About Your Future podcast, and the Seeking Alpha Alpha Picks podcast.
‘Cattleman’
By Fr. Dan Tuton
Sinewed arms and knotted hands,
head inclined, intense you peer
Toward the heavens, clear-sky eyes
Viewing the parade of years.
Corrals of cattle, sagebrush, sun
with grief and gratitude are blessed,
Nestled in a weathered heart,
like heirlooms in a cedar chest.
Few now ask to see them, these,
your treasures of a life lived free,
But here upon this hospice bed
they glow with desert clarity.
Now eighty years, your rawhide stretched,
your focus turning slow toward me;
You ask to hear the story told,
This Eve of the Nativity.
Attentive eyes unmask my smile
with patience born of one who’s seen
Countless seasons, rich and spare,
life and loved ones in between.
No notion here of letting go,
Of gently greeting that good night.
You listen, resolute and calm,
You’ll hail again the morning light.
Dan Tuton is a poet living in Albuquerque, New Mexico. After an initial career as a family therapist, he has been ordained as an Episcopal priest since early in 2004. He initially served a parish in the Baltimore area for four years, and have been the Vicar, then Rector of Hope in the Desert in Albuquerque until retiring in 2023.
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