Wreathed in Light

wreath (c) in medias res by Melinda Kucsera

Wreathed in Light

(Picks up where Deck the Mountain’s Halls left off)

“Wait!” Ran cried, his need to complete things
taking charge, “the wreath! It needs one more light.”
One spot left on the e’er green, Advent ring;
one dark place that needed to be made bright.
Then the fairies’ spell could begin, Advent’s
end with it bring; the waiting’s done and soon
celebrations will ring with song, presents
‘neath the tree and laughter, the season’s boon.
To move things along, Ran hurried to fetch
Nolo, his son Nerule, Inari, his
wife, Uncle Miren, Papa who catches
him in a hug, gathering them all ’round
the wreath one last time, where the spirit’s found.

~ ~ ~

Here at last the true spirit of Christmas
is found, however, those fairies still miffed
at the interruption to their Christmas
plan, turned their backs, giving the wreath short shrift.

Nolo tugged on his collar; aware now
at the season’s looming end, that he’d spent
Advent working, sparing almost no down
time for him or his family and that lent
this Sunday a somber feel, ‘cept for Ran,
of course, that poor child could not stop smiling.
What did he have to smile about? No clan
to protect him, no normal upbringing,
no toys save a stuffed bear and no real home.
Yet Christmas had, in his smile, found a home.

~ ~ ~

In that child’s innocent smile, Nolo found
Christmases past, full of bright candle glow,
laughter and song; not pine boughs they danced round
but palm fronds, draped in beaded fringe; no snow
down south in Bantu Land, just sand and surf,
thick jungle sprawl, mango and coconut
puddings and always song marking their turf.
No glowing stones, but candles, coconut
scented, and he’d drift breathing it all in
dreaming of a land called Shayari far
to the north, a land steeped in myth within
magically erected walls, a place far
from the ruin, the massacre, the screams–
but that bloody night still echoes in dreams.

~ ~ ~

Nolo cleared his throat; they’d gathered to pray,
and he had things to say, “O Lord, stir Thy
power and come, help us with grace, we pray.”
The next lines sprang to mind and stayed there; may Thy
merciful forgiveness hasten what sins
impede, but he kept that last part ‘tween God
and he, where belongs grave matters like sins.
To candles of childhood, he gave a nod.
To Shayari’s magic held ban on fire,
he lifted the last lumir stone; it bathed
them all in purple light more constant than fire.
He set that last stone  with the other three.
Fairies danced with glee, now Christmas could be!

~ ~ ~

The story continues in Sleigh Ride.

Follow Sarn’s Christmas Journey

(Worried about missing a piece of the holiday mayhem?  Worry not fair reader. The fairies are arranging a special eBook to help.)


(and there are circles…)

30 thoughts on “Wreathed in Light

  1. I copied this and sent to my phone so I could reread this on my way home tonight on the bus. You are really a gifted writer!! Even if I have not read the previous poems/stories, this stands on its own…the two last stanzas moved me so much, I could read them over and over. You have touched the true spirit of Christmas…

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I feel bad that I dont always have time to visit...Carpe Diem Haiku Kai has been my daily ritual for two years plus other prompts andnow Im lucky if I do a 1/4. But you are correct all I did was work and write, read…little sleep and never had time to go out. I am contemplating editing poems and flash fictions to combine them into a book. A work in progress.

        Liked by 1 person

        1. Sounds like a good idea. I am editing my work for publication as well especially this Christmas sequence and the books they are based on. I do as you do, read, write, work and go out when I can schedule that in (meaning when I can afford it). Visit when you can. My story-poems will be here when you come.

          Liked by 1 person

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