Concerning My Choice

1. Nicholas
So many saints to choose from.
So many to consider. Hints around me
everywhere. A personal saint lived in
a different age, yet is a person with whom
you have something in common.
A prayer partner, like the flame of a candle
coaxing prayer toward heaven….

Dear Old St. Nicholas,
loved and honored by East and West,
Patron of more causes than any other saint,
you are the patron of bakers, scholars,
teachers, and poets, all of which I have been.
You are the saint for prostitutes, murderers,
and corn-measurers, none of which I have been.

You’re a special saint for children.
And yes, in my heart, I’m a squirming child,
safe in the charcoal-colored velvet
of God’s wide arms. No one seems to know
how, deep in the night, I can see dust
with my eyes closed, each particle twinkling
with its doled-out modicum of truth.

2. Advent Wreath

I sought the integrity of Advent
in spite of the Christmas rush,

placed candles in the center
of an evergreen wreath

attached to a charger plate
to make it solid. Five candles:

three violet for penance,
one rose for joy, and a taller

white one to be lit on Christmas
Day. Holly and pinecones

tie the wreath to continuous life
as the ancients surely knew it

before Eliade penned The Myth
of Eternal Return. In front of

the candles I put a plain white
nativity scene and small glass bottles

of gold flakes,
myrrh, and frankincense oils:

gifts for a King. I tucked a tiny bottle
of holy water in front of the white candle

to bless the wreath and prayed for grace,
an increase of faith, a brighter light.

A statue of St. Nicholas
placed near the Advent wreath

reminds me that keeping Advent
helps to bring a Joyful Christmas.