Silent Night...

As Christmas approaches I wanted to share one of my favourite Christmas poems - it's e.e.cummings again but it's beautiful, tinged with sadness too...

little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away?

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don't be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and i'll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you're quite dressed

you'll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they'll stare!

oh but you'll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we'll dance and sing

"Noel Noel"

It's beautiful because it's so simple and innocent, and really seems to capture Christmas through the eyes of a child. That naivety and trusting nature, and the longing to make the world brighter seems to be one of the things that Christmas evokes in us - just look at all those Christmas films (Miracle on 34th Street, It's a Wonderful Life etc). The fifth stanza I particularly like; the image of putting rings on the trees fingers is beautiful and such a clever piece of personification that carries on the theme of the child getting to know the tree, wanting to know its story, bonding with it, wanting to protect it ('you are so little/you are more like a flower' - it's fragile). This is a particularly wonderful poem to read aloud because cummings seems to give us the 'resting' space, through his mis-en-page, so it sounds natural. Added to which, I always want to read it quietly and slowly, savouring the language, but also adding to the mystery and wonder of a child's experience of Christmas. I think the sadness comes in because the child forgets, or doesn't know, that its existence is ephemeral; after Christmas is over it will be gone and in its fragility it will die.

Last night at my church was the candlelit carol service which was lovely, and one of the carols was 'In the Bleak Midwinter' which is one of my favourites. The words are by Christina Rossetti and the tune I prefer is the one Holst composed. As we sang I realised just how great the words are - not just as a message but as poetry. Quite often I think that carols and hymns - and songs in general - are worth a second look in terms of literary value (maybe one day we'll dust off 'Jerusalem', originally a poem written by Blake in his introduction to his own book of poetry, and potentially mistakenly used as an alternative English national anthem!).

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.

Obviously this isn't the world's most culturally aware carol: although I'm sure it does snow on occasion in Bethlehem, it's hardly likely to have been doing so at Jesus' birth. However I think Rossetti is talking less about severe weather warnings and more about the spiritual condition of this world. It's the same idea C.S.Lewis uses in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe - that evil in the world brings coldness to it, and only the arrival of a Creator King can restore that winter to spring. I'm not sure I've explained that very well so I apologise if it makes no sense! I really like that line 'Heaven and earth shall flee away when he comes to reign'; I like the picture of everything running and hiding in the presence of a far superior ruler - in awe rather than fear induced by tyrrany I think. The last verse (or stanza, depending on if we're singing or reading I suppose!) never fails to move me - it brings us right into the scene of Jesus' birth and shows us our inadequacy and inability to give anything of value to him; all we can really bring is ourselves.

Merry Christmas one and all :)