A Christmas Poem for Fiery Days and Cold Nights

Our Christmas Bonfire

We've gathered around it many times.

To gaze in silence.

Inspired by the power.

Connected by the warmth.

Dazzled by the light. 

Watching the dizzying sparks fly upward.

I think of those we love and have lost.

Lost for now. 

In my way, I would have you here, son.

I would have all of you here.

I feel you and hear you still. 

My longing heart wraps itself up

and steadies itself for a longer journey.

May I be comforted by fire and light.

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

One of my favorite poems now. I believe that last line so fervently. It brings me great comfort. When Joey first died I could not hear him compared to things in nature. It rankled me because I felt it diminished him and my grief. As time has gone by, I see him in every beautiful thing, and God has greatly reassured us of His power to save as we have seen His grandeur in nature. That's how I read it now.

It was written in 1932 by an American housewife and florist named Mary Elizabeth Frye, 1905-2004. She wrote it for a friend who was lamenting that she could not return to Germany to mourn the death of her mother. Frye said it "came to her" as she wrote it.

May it bring you comfort and hope in the power of God and our hope for eternal life, as it does me.