The stockings hang

 

As He did

A tree will rise in lighted splendor

 

 

With dozens of round twinkling eyes

 

All iris- all colors- they hang

 

Children and all expecting

 

Blinded by desire in the sky

 

And all He wanted was an alternative- all he suggested

 

A hope declined

 

They were denied their insatiable dreams?

 

Their hungry eyes did not feast upon their expected opulence?

 

And damn the enablers of course!

 

Misguided wretches- misdirected love…

 

And the one who denied Him?

 

The Truth.

 

They cried, spewed their grief of lost luxury to the world

 

The anguish brought upon themselves

 

The thoughtless intentions- what’s one to one million deficiencies?

 

His response to deprivation?

 

He dug his nails out

 

And why not?

 

His father had spoken

 

Our Father is speaking

 

Empty wrappers crumpled and forgotten

 

A temporary comfort never savored

 

No thought half formed about it

 

Snow melts- and they cheer- bask in the slush of convenience

 

Convenience over beauty

 

Desire over gratitude

 

And why not?

 

And He returned

 

And they left the others in the dark and cold hell

 

Desire- an escort of no meaning