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    My daily writing--emails, journal entries, marginalia, more emails, blog posts, and tweets--shapes me as a writer, helping and hindering the big stuff I'm trying to accomplish. Every word counts.

    My name is James Black. I'm on Facebook and Twitter. Friend and/or follow me if you like.

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Christmas Promise

Not quite half my life ago, I wrote the following poem, which I originally posted on my other blog.

Christmas is gone again
like another hotel guest,
and with it went
the brilliant revelation I hoped
would unchain me.
I stalked and hovered,
but when I finally pounced,
I fell upon nothing
once again.

My hopes made a Christmas promise to me
that happiness and togetherness would prevail
over desolation and loneliness,
in honor of and beyond
The Season.

A promise never kept;
I fell for it again.

26 December 1990
Age 21

I wasn’t particularly Christian, just the American, default version that involves celebrating Christmas. Sometimes I miss joining in the fun, but then I hear about the tension and outright fighting that goes on at family “celebrations.” So much money is spent on gifts and to travel to be with family. A lot of people put a lot of energy into making this time of year matter. No wonder there’s so much disappointment. I’m glad I keep my distance.

If you celebrate Christmas and managed to get through this one unscathed (or, hell, if you had a great time), I’m truly glad for you. No irony. Glad the promise was kept. Hope the rest of the year goes well, too. For all of us.


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