Day After Christmas
By Don Iannone

'Tis the day after Christmas, and
the snow has now decided to fall in Vermont.
Now 'tis time to make our way home to Cleveland,
which is actually a very welcome thought.
Spirits rise and fall during holidays, and
this Christmas was no exception.
The trouble with holidays,
as far as I can tell, is
we expect too much, and
somehow just miss the beauty
managing to show up each day.
Vermont we shall consider a friend from hereforth.
And so, the road has once again carried us in the right direction.

Reflections on an Early Christmas Morning in Stowe, Vermont
By Don Iannone

Dreams filled my head throughout the night before Christmas.
Gifts to myself? Maybe, but
mostly just churning waves lapping at my soul.
Each trying to awaken me to myself,
and the unknown mystery inhabiting all of us.

We went to church last night in Stowe...
something we talk about, but don’t do very often.
I haven’t seen a church so filled in a long time.
There was joy in being with others, and
celebrating something larger, and
there was also sadness in watching families together
with bright-eyed children, filled with wonder.

The awakening eastern sky drapes herself over the mountains,
like a pastel orange and gray shawl.
An omen, perhaps, that snow is on the way.
The sun will soon be up, and
the lodge will be a bustle with folks young and old,
decked out in once-a-year reds and greens.

Last night's dreams have now faded, and
the more mundane has overtaken my ability
to hold a spiritual pose on this Christmas morning.
Fresh baked cookies dipped in ice cold milk would suit me just fine;
but that would be childish of me, but
after all it is Christmas, and
why continue to hold this self-indulgent spiritual pose.
Like I really know anything...
about the unknown mystery within us all.

A voice within says just put one foot in front of the other,
brush your teeth, and let your day happen…
like every day in life.
How can one argue with that?
After all, that is the mystery of life,
and that is precisely how all Christmases happen.

'Twas the Eve Before Christmas
By Don Iannone

Cold starry December night,
filled with birth-giving anticipation.
Overflowing with creative magic...
of the sort only a child can bring forth.
From deep in the soul's evergreen forest,
new life rustles into being,
rippling itself across the universe,
like the countless stars filling the sky.
In the distance a new voice is born;
its faint cry lingers,
like that of the wind
singing through the trees.
On this eve before Christmas,
as all turn young again,
magic resumes its place
in our hearts just one more time.

Prayin' for Snow in Stowe
By Don Iannone

Off to Stowe
Hoping for snow
Even a dusting
I'm still trusting
Christmas in Vermont
Comes to miracles, we're dilettantes
Fireplace cracklin'
People cacklin'
Sleigh bells ringin'
Glad hearts singin'
Off to Stowe
No better place to go
But Santa please, bring some snow.