I live upon Marley’s yard

His stride, his walk

His chains and fetters

gladly received by me

From time spent past

Oh. That I may seek

That I may again gaze upon

The sun of woven fields

Where I once sat

Between sheaves of wheat

And ears of corn

To not be shorn by the guilt of guilty parties

Thrown and tidied together in grieving harm

To judge and scorn

The sores and scars

Of every cut and scratch

From every word and deed

That I have sown

That would throw themselves across my path

To trap and snare

Every last living breath I have breathed

In sharp relief against all that I have now come to believe

Which could now be captured and redirected

Into smiling countenance

Over all I encounter

So that I would not continue in Marley’s footsteps

So that I can at last throw off

The clinkered chink of ball and chain

That no longer I should be under this hard-pressed sun and moon

To walk upright

To fill my lungs no longer with the choking smoke

Of Christmas past

But to live this very day

In the moment of pleasant unfettered revelry