Christmas Eve
December
Cold winds blow as I walk along the street
Lights outline buildings
Lights twinkle in the windows
People can be seen gathered around a tree, a television, a hearth
Sitting, watching, waiting
"Santa Stop Here"
Posted in a yard beside a small tree covered in colored lights
The wind blows
I pull up my collar
Force myself to walk slower
Look across the street
Feel the cold
Accept the cold
Know the cold
Alone on a night of gathering
Walking the street
Exposed to the elements
Exposed to the gusts
Set adrift from my friends
One gone south to be with her family
One local but putting distance between us
Another to include me later tonight
Another to include me tomorrow afternoon
Sad at the loss
It brought me a drum
It brought me some moments of revealing myself to another
And surviving
But not returning for me
Seeking refuge in the safe patterns of A Relationship
Daily time spent together in the daily routines of waking and washing and eating and sleeping
Sexual time because he's there to be sexual with
Sexual expression for the challenge of finding a way to make contact through the walls between us
Sexual contact made more skillful by its practice
Sexual passion lost in the maze of caring too much
Afraid to push it; afraid to show the passion
And so the passion is lost
If it ever was there
Was this a messenger of passion
Or is there another message here?
Care of the soul
Listen to the soul
I have a new drum
I have seen the struggle of another man
I have seen his walls
I have reached inside to touch his heart, briefly
I have a body
I know delight in physical release
I have been reminded of the physical body
Of the need to relax
Of the need to seek shelter
Of the need to push my limits in the physical plane
One surface polished to a touch shine
Reflecting the world
Showing little of itself other than surface blemishes that twist the reflections
My chest hurts when I breath deeply
The wrenching cough of last month has left it's wound
I can feel the torn muscles as they stretch
I can feel my torn heart as it beats in my chest
I CAN FEEL
I need not be a sleepwalker
I need not be afraid to show those feelings
There is more to showing them than the comfort of touch
There is more to showing them than the passion of the balls
There is the long run
The pace of step after step
The physical movement that takes the body beyond the body
One step
Onward
Pushing, stretching, hurting, growing
The coyotes howl in my head
Their cry echos where none but me can hear it
A flute, a drum
Sounds from the heart
Songs from the heart
Lost
Wandering the dark night
No stars for guides
no stares from cute young men
no knowing looks from wise old men
no partner to walk along side
Cold shivers up my spine
I feel the edges of my life
The journey is underway
Willing or not, it sweeps me along
The drum beat calls me
Join in the dance
Abandon control
Be driven
-- Larry Wolf (1995)
[Posted 2025]