The Christmas Tree, different worlds ...

Tess has finished dressing the Christmas Tree - she's hung baubles from its dark branches - the fairy with her angel's wings surveys our lounge - she reminds me of the Virgin I saw in a street shrine, one summer in Naples - I was dizzy with the beauty of sumptuous churches, overwhelmed by the sight of a glistening octopus - behind the lens of glass was a heavenly visitant - 

Anne went to Highwood to buy the tree, across the river - each side of the lane were silent fields - rooks circled the topmost branches of leafless oaks - a white horse moved slowly across a pasture filled with shadows - 

We'll place more presents under the tree, loop more lights around its fragrant body - 

My mum and dad may put up their small artificial tree on the sideboard - they'll have many Christmas cards - 

I think I'll listen to Aziza Brahmin again - Tess is finishing wrapping up her gifts - 

I bought my dad a CD of The Moody Blues - sometimes he starts singing Tuesday afternoon, I'm just beginning to see - it doesn't matter to me, chasing the clouds away - 

I remember playing him the record, worlds ago, when all was different - I had light brown hair and my gaze was untroubled - 

14.32

December 17 2014

The Old School House

East Stoke