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I woke as though it was Christmas,

the anticipation is the same.

Knowing this is going to be a special lunch

with restaurants and food, I do not usually prepare.

Company of ladies I know so well, will dine

and we will laugh and wear funny glasses.

We will travel to a museum and see dragons

make believe and real, as real as the artist imagination.

I will laugh and maybe cry, because instead of Christmas

it is my birthday, and the sun will finally shine.

So will I , inside and out…

What makes a good leader?

Service

I woke this morning, 

freezing from the tip of my toes

to the top of my head.

I looked at the dark sky and 

the snow and Ice ahead.

I picked up myself and 

decided to be, rose color glasses.

and warm sunshine inside of me.

I hope the weather catches up.

or sad it will be.

because I will be with rose color glasses

and a spirit free. 

copyrighted: 2024 CMM.

A blessed and warm Martin Luther King Day.  I so remember when I was a tiny child picking up my brilliant Uncle with the Grandparents.    I know it was the first time I had been to the train station.  I was a reader and I read early.  I remember distinctly needing to go to the restroom.  I wandered into the restroom, and I read over the door, whites only.  I thought to myself, what does that mean?  I even questioned if that was the case where did the other people go?  It was a deep feeling and just the beginning of many such experiences in the south.  

I reared my children to never see color, but character.  They still base their friendships on this premise.  

There is slumber in my words, and sleep in my thoughts.

I question all the good intent and wonder about the loss.

A new year’s path has made its way into my morning light.

After I wake in meditation from last night.

I listen to the distant dog bark without regard today.

I stop for a moment before I leave and think of what to say.

To friends who see a dismal world and look out to blame.

And others who are unaware and continue the same.

I tie my shoes in celebrate, the life I do not understand.

I am a wonder as I go on and grateful where stand. 

Copyrighted: 2024 CMM

in quiet Dawn

I pass

I remember

And project

I know, we know , we all know

Merry Christmas

A 3 mile run.

As tears fall

Watering the prayers

the stars touch

In silent promise

CMM. 2023

A voice so loud, I do remember,

Early evening, in late December

“Ho ho ho”, with a thunderous laugh,

Waking from slumber, we in amazement could hear

a noise in the living room, it was certain and clear.

Why was he here and we are not asleep?

Our grandfather yelled, “kids come take a peep.”

“It looks as though Santa has come too soon,

you are awake and giggling in your room.”

We tip toed and peered around the hall to see,

a bearded man, red suit, looking back at me.

“Ho Ho Ho”, he winked and continued to sound.

“You are awake and wide eyed, I have found.”

He had a red suit, and a long white hair,

big black boots, white gloves; he drew near.

We stood there in awe, and not a word said,

he hugged us, “Now get back to your bed.”

We stumbled in step as we scampered away,

giggling we hoped he would be there the next day.

I remember the night; Santa came too soon.

As I closed my eyes, that night in my room.

Christine McNeill-Matteson. copyrighted: 2023

I step into the day as I cross over the house,

turn on the coffee pot prepped from the day before.

Feeling the chill, I light the fireplace and pull my robe close.

I linger for a moment, until the coffee is ready.

I see the holiday lights on the neighbor’s lawn,

and the darkness on the houses next to it.

Picking up my cup, I settle into the couch and 

into my thoughts from the day before, missing loved ones.

Real Christmas Trees, creakier floors, tinsels that made messes.

the coffee was longer, and we were ok with that.

Holidays are a paradox of time that crescendos. 

into glimpse of all the feelings, loved ones, present and past.

I will soon get ready for the day and look to. 

a window of time for me to run …

CMM. 2023

Thanksgiving Run and the day is quiet,

I run the hill just in sight. 

As I labor against the height

Three young Deer crossed to run, just in sight.

I knew this was a Thanksgiving run,

I have often seen them in early sun.

Hunters were out in their tradition

I had my own Thanksgiving rendition .

As I continued to run the hill,

I see a truck parked on the side still, 

I off in distance hear the hunters’ guns,

speckled in a distant field of early sun.

I knew then, what was taking place,

and the reason the deer had a quicker pace.

As I ran on up the hill,

I said a prayer, quiet and still, 

“Run, deer, Run.”

I knew then the 3 that crossed,

would live another day, all was not lost.

CMM. 2023