Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Before Epiphany

Written January 5,1978  with a nod to T.S.Eliot

Restless
Restless
Pacing the rooms, one to the other
No books will be my friend for long
Good heavens. What is it?

I can't eat, too fat already
Can't play my violin, couldn't anyway
The snow's too deep for walking 
My friend's are talked out
And I'm faking this poem.

The main cause of unrest
A theory maybe
The Christmas tree lights are on
But here in my soul
The inn still has no room
The sky is empty of angels
The stable's guests are sleeping and
The shepherds have returned to
Their flocks.

In this quiet night
It's just me and the three kings
Reliving the long, weary road
Following that far off twinkling star
Restless
Restless
Until the journey's end.

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