He Came

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As the chickadee finds its nest,

among the prickly leaf…

The labored Mother sighs

as birthing finds relief…

Then nature joins a chorus,

among the star they sing…

Humanity realized His birth

of the Resurrection King…

He came among the world

in quiet winter’s rest…

Chickadee without notice

continues to make his nest…

Copyrighted:  CMM 2003

Hard Places

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I have climbed to a place I did not choose.
I have felt the wind of discourse
The cold breeze of season’s change
Hard places alone into heights of loss
The view is one of escalating challenges
There is no end to the horizon
There is no definition to the time.

© Christine McNeill-Matteson

I Will Never Forget

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 Washington DC putting flowers on Mom's gravephoto
Touching the ground, wet grass, and still morning.
You lie beneath my feet, feet that feel  as though
they are sinking into the very void of your presence.
Leaving barren ground to follow without you,
holy ground,  hallow feelings of yesterday.
You do not exist in temporal tomorrows of living everyday.
I kneel, to keep from swaying in the feelings of uncertainty.
I want to lie and sleep near you, to feel you again.
A fragment of time, going and gone, and soon to be gone again,
I mix the moisture of the day with the moisture of my tears.
In the passing of life as I seek to find reason,
I bow my head to pray. I feel the swelling of life and death
fertilize the ground inside my grounding, so that I may never forget.
© CMM 2011

Day of Dreams

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157
Speckled spaces of sparse
clouds, covered captures of
shadows as shining sunset
peers in private perfection.
Lowering lights of last
twilights tempting timing
calls carefully a christened
day of dreams and doubts.
©   CMM   2012

In Company

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I sit before you all that I have,

A moment,

A cup,

Coffee…

It isn’t the coffee that is the gift,

It is the importance,

A time,

A bequest…

I sit before you and we drink,

Smelling the coffee,

Listening,

Sharing…

Pour into the gift,

Of you and me,

Holding,

The moment…

I sit before you.

We pour

 

©  CMM 2013

cup of coffee

Shakespeare and Days of Youth

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Perched below the shaded trees,
cools the sun’s luncheon rays.
Crossed in contemplation knees
are the enchanted Shakespeare days.

Tempered heat of springtime lawn

varid carpet lays beneath.
Lurching words without alarm,
bid from metamorphous sleep.

Anthony and Cleopatra fight,
as sonnets woo the lady’s fare.
Henry the IV comes from the night,
poets and lovers, a wispy pair.

The yeoman genius now buried in tomb,
leaves with the youth a place to learn.
While even when he left the room,
all other works are now discerned.

copyrighted:   2005
CMM