Dismantling the Magic

I registered for two different zoom calls with poet James Crews in December. Alas, life took over and finally in January I was able to watch both recordings. James has a voice that is soothing and gentle and I could listen to him read poetry for hours. As he spoke with Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer and Maya Stein about poetry, I found myself jotting lines of my own. I had several pages of lines and poem parts and musings. I liked two of them, but something was missing. So I put them together. Enjoy. (And check out the Substacks of James Crews, Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer and Maya Stein.)

DISMANTLING THE MAGIC

I am crabby
open decoration boxes everywhere
I no longer appreciate the non-routine of winter break
bare cupboards as I pack away Christmas dishes
solitude is elusive
platters carefully separated by corrugated cardboard to avoid chips and cracks
I need time and space to reflect
What do you do with leftover candy canes?
I haven’t pondered or processed or prepared
five or six cookies left in each container decorated with dancing Santas
I need to be kind
Joe can now have carte blanche over the cookies that previously were saved for guests
I’m weary
pack away the nativity scene
leave me alone
we waited lighting three purple and one rose candle week by week
I need a moment to myself
we said daily prayers waiting to celebrate His birth
Do viruses take hold over the holidays so we are relieved to leave the festivities behind?
now His likeness is bubble wrapped and boxed to wait for next year
we need routine, early bedtimes and morning alarms
nutcrackers that have never cracked anything march back into storage
vegetables replace cookies
my home looks ransacked
we need fresh air, sound sleep and water
putting the tree up and unwrapping decorations are exciting chores when everything is shiny and possible
regulate our systems
dissolve the extreme into the mundane
I chastise my November self
scrub the schmutz from the bottom of the vegetable drawer
November me was full of energy and decorated every surface
replace the slimy vegetation that was forgotten because of fudge
my January self is recovering from viruses shared as freely as Christmas cookies
fresh peppers, lettuce, broccoli
next year, I should decorate less so it is easier to dismantle
morning prayers by the dusty light of the Christmas tree I don’t want to give up
but next year my November self will be full of magical expectations
and tell January me to suck it up and dismantle the magic
Time is ordinary again