May the Christmas season end with glad tidings and great joy 🙂 This is the complete write up on my Christmas pose, hope you enjoy!
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A lily among ash am I, within this charred garden’s cold walls. I kneel, my dress of white spread across the blackened ground and yet unmarked by its dust. Silence, oh silence, my closest companion, accompanying me in prayer, patiently through the ages. I’ve remained this way, since death destroyed this place, and seen the woes and falling of the people. Yet my oil lamp still burns, and my hope and anticipation keep the light bright – matching the light of the star, as heaven came down to earth.
On the First day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
While angels sang he came through my gate, and the earth rejoiced as the people slept. He made a tree grow in my barren grove – a pear tree he placed for me. Upon the branches hung a partridge bird, and from its side water and blood flowed, washing away the ash and revealing snow.
On the Second day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Two turtle doves he brought, two turtle doves for me. One, aged and wise, sat close to the younger, who stood strong with new life in its eyes. Their songs alone were something to behold, yet when sung together a grander melody did unfold. Where one would finish, the other began, or allude to the beginning again. Though so different, their song was the same, both were singing his name.
On the Third day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Three French hens, their names as lovely as the dawning sun, fides spes and caritas – to call one, was to call them all. Beautiful birds were they, and the people noticed as they came. Some paused, catching the feathers the hens let fall. And to those who held tight, their gnashing stopped, and their wailing was replaced by song.
On the Fourth day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
From the four corners of the world, came four calling birds, singing songs to me. Many tunes did they sing, yet all were one theme, telling of my lover’s love for me. Wherever they flew, dead things became new. So when over dark fields they passed, there sprouted fresh grass, and as they went they trumpeted their cry “Make way for the Christ, for he brings new life! The king has been born in our land!”
On the Fifth day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Upon my fingers five rings he placed, each increasingly laid to waste – the story of their fall clearly written in their marks. My heart mourned for the injured and torn, so I placed them on the branches and thorns, of my pear tree, so fair, in my garden’s greening fold. Their battered bronze turned to gold.
On the Sixth day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Six geese he brought, one after the next, laying eggs upon their nests. From each egg as it opened, came a piece of the world from the shells that were broken. The sky, the earth, to the beasts and the birds, each corner of creation redone to its birth.
On the Seventh day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Seven swans were swimming, through streams, lakes, and oceans, the dark mirk dispelled from their path with each graceful motion. Gifts they bestowed, to those drawing near to the shore, and anointed with pure oil that was poured. Away they were sent, to guide, seek out, or just be present. Fulfilling a mission, each their own, and their fruits they did show.
On the Eighth day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Eight maids were milking, their cows pastured in my garden sweet; their heads bowed as they carried out their tasks, through resolve studious and meek. Each cow a different milk did give, for strength or peace or rebuke of sin. The milk was collected, to nourish the neglected, by faithful servants going far and wide.
On the Ninth day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Nine ladies tended my garden, nursing the flowers to bloom, and dancing through their perfume. The gifts the flowers did give, help the servants live – with love, patience, self-control and all, bettering them to live out the law. The people came to this garden so free, and the gifts they received brought them closer to the wounded on the tree.
On the Eleventh day of Christmas, my true love came to me.
Eleven Pipers piped the good news, of the life offered to gentiles and Jews. With simple robes and their only pair of sandals on their feet, they journeyed and preached in the streets. Outside the garden’s walls they were eventually cut down – just for defending me – all except for the one who’d stayed by the tree.
On the Twelfth day of Christmas, my true love stayed with me.
Our wedding feast was held in my garden so bright, flowers, trees, and the servants bathed in a glorious light. The people danced, the musicians played, the celebration lasted without time or day. And all around us twelve drummers marched, drumming and declaring the things we believed in our hearts.
On the Twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me; twelve drummers drumming, eleven pipers piping, ten lords a leaping, nine ladies dancing, eight maids a milking, seven swans a swimming, six geese a laying, five golden rings, four calling birds, three french hens, two turtle doves, and a partridge in a pear tree.