I was visiting yesterday afternoon with a dear friend of mine who is a hermit.  That is to say, she is a dear old lady who was a nun and now lives a solitary life of prayer outside her community, but still under vows of poverty, chastity and obedience.  I very much doubt if I've ever in my life set eyes on a happier, more contented human being.  We used to be next door neighbors and I popped by her new digs to wish her a Merry Christmas.

We got to talking about the deep affection we share for trees and the sense of connection we feel with them.  There is something so soothing, grounding and benevolent about trees.  Once the fury of day#1 of Christmas is over, I love to spend the next 11 quieter days of the season contemplating the tree.  I remember so clearly as a young boy growing up in New York City how the tree filled me with awe and how I could smell it's resinous sweetness all through our apartment.  It's not always easy to recapture those overwhelming feelings of childhood wonder in the midst of stupid adult busyness, but that sense of awe did fill me again as I gazed at the tree one Twelfth Night and I wrote this poem about it.

TWELFTH NIGHT:  THE CHRISTMAS TREE

A rumor of angelic trees

Stirs in the sentimental blood;

Enchanted watchers in the wood

Of half-remembered Paradise:

Stirs in the blood, beguiling sense

With childhood's all-engrossing joy;

These glittering boughs in bright array

Carry the heart into the dance.

Brilliant, beneficent and calm

Amid the unavailing gloom,

A verdant spirit from the realm

Of unseen guardians spreads his hands...

Absolves adulthood.  Now resume

Strict fealty to delight's demands! 

- Tod Jones

A Blessed, Joyous, Holy and Merry Christmas to all my dear Faerie-Friends!!!