Thursday, December 15, 2011

The Fire of Christmas

Behold, see the fire crackle and snap 
Its hot, glowing fingers burst forth and wrap 
Around the wood and its dark blackened face 
The flames dance, vanish, and twist in their place

Around this bright wonder the people sit 
Hardly aware that they all stare at it 
Laughing and talking of both life and dream 
As shoes dry and steam in the fire's gleam 

Above this wonder the stars shine around 
Below and past them the snow's on the ground 
The distant fiddle, the joy in the air 
To these blessed folks, their vigor doth share 

Why is there peace when the dark is unknown? 
Why is there joy when the cold cuts the bone? 
Why do these people all love, laugh, and play, 
While the wet and wind prevail all the day? 

This wonder is caused by blood that Christ shed 
While we were dark, cold, bitter, and dead 
The Winter fled from the flame of His light 
And as King leads us to vict'ry and might


P. S. I wrote this poem the evening of the 10th. Can anyone guess at what real-life location I was picturing myself while I was writing it?


Taralyn Rose said...

Oo, I don't know! But I really want to!

Did you write it from a painting...or a story...or from history?

Maybe it's the Pilgrims.
Or, is it a memory from back in Missouri?

I don't know.

p.s. It's a very good poem, anyhow.

Anonymous said...

I'm probably not right, but . . . were you imagining yourself in a Confederate camp? ;-)

~Katie D.

Anonymous said...

Is it a party just come back from cutting their Christmas tree and sitting around a fire, or perhaps coming home from being out and about at Christmas time?

My first guess was the shepherds come back from seeing the Christ child--but that really doesn't quite fit.

I love the way you described the fire in the dark! I can almost smell the smoke and feel the cold on my face (if I imagine).... The interplay of the imagery of the light of fire and cold darkness throughout the poem is beautiful. Thanks for sharing it.

By the way, we visited your church in Troy the week before ya'll left last year--but I stumbled on this site quite by accident not long ago. I'm glad I did, because whenever I happen to wander over here, I find something encouraging. Keep up the good work, young man!


The Dischers said...

Very nice Poem, Peter! A Confederate camp or War for Independence camp sounds about right.

Merry Christmas!

Peter Bringe said...

This might have been a little unfair because only a few of my readers would know the experience. While it was not a military camp from history, that is pretty close, because the place I was think of was at the Daniel Boone Home Candlelight Tours that our family had volunteered for for a long while. Taralyn was the closest with a memory from back in Missouri. I was also looking at our fire in our fireplace here in Colorado.

I remember your family. If I remember correctly, the video CFC made for us was shown after church, and then we went to the Serven's house and watched "Agenda". Thank you and God be praised.

-Peter B.
Deo Vindice

Taralyn Rose said...

So I was right with one of my guesses!
Thanks, Peter. That was fun.

Anonymous said...

I was guessing that it was the Candleligh Tour!