Stand here in your own blood,

My brave heart,

Your shadow and I spy

Firm, thick wood.

The dark lights of Christmastide

Afflict us

Red and green sunset drops

Create an awesome flicker

Of candle-light and in the mean time,

We mark the end of the hologram-life.

No disguise

All begins with grief,

Such great wordy statements

Fall through the looking-glass

Into the mirror

 Of suffering generations

Lifting eyes to a cross,

Suffering flows through a history

Of unkept promises and broken hearts,

Out of time's descent we rise again,

Into language.

This partnership of the blood 

The body a  holy place

Again.

We fix the broken

Time

passes, flows....