Reminiscent the sensational tales

Santa calling

How incredible

I had no idea what was coming

Just before the count of forty


Walking among us

Living with us

In us


Of the thirty-ninth hour

He must have seen when I was sleeping

Known I was awake

When he showed up

Not that I knew the difference

Between the two

Life and sleep were synonyms

By the count of thirty-eight

Misery mundane

All hope definitively seared

Sealed in sleep

As to whether I had been bad or good

Bad was the word

Made perfect sense

Under cause effect

I rose in slow motion


As sun’s radiant rays bathed me anew

New lease glow

Halfway in reality

Halfway in dream land

Some moments are strange

Others stranger than fiction

Mine fell in neither

For the touch of mars

Defies all definition

I knew it best

Forty years

Minus two

So in the turmoil of life

I will watch and pray one more hour

Stilling my soul

Bearing patiently

You never know

Never just know

At that moment of utter resignation

When day is almost gone

And all is lost

He may just come calling



Of the thirty-ninth hour




Epitome of care

Before time

Making all things new

I know this to be truth

The whole truth

And nothing

But the truth
© The Blazing Trail 2014
All Rights Reserved




  1. Hmm…I read this three times. I never do that.
    I admire your restraint and the control it gives you. This poem would have galloped away from a less deftly employed short leash.
    I might not be getting it right – but inter-twining Santa Claus, a Martian and…is it the Messiah? – strikes me as a perfect American theology. You infuse a genuine shudder of awe, or at least the possibility of awe into a framework of humor: not easy to do. I mean “He must have seen when I was sleeping/known I was awake” is inherently hilarious, yet as the reader moves on, the line becomes…not so funny.
    And just when you think “Oh this is about that prayer we all pray when the day is lost and images of whatever is divine don’t matter” – we’re suddenly taking a legal oath we weren’t ready for. And that’s funny!

    I admire this poem, and it I have gotten it completely wrong, well, it won’t be the first time. I can only plead to being a lunkhead and thank you again for writing it.


    1. Dear Claire

      You have a way with words, better still, your imagination! Simply hilarious! Thanks for visiting,truly glad to meet you. I do not want to add a single word to the image you’ve painted. You captured its spirit so well…gave a whole deal of depth and perspective, thanks. Thirty eight years is a long time to be waiting for something…anything! No one agrees better than that ancient pool, surrounded by five colonnades…yes five covered colonnades…where it all happened!

      Thanks again and See you around!


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