The Thinking Poet


Our Second  Self

Long ago, as a child,
Christmas was gifts and party-games,
comic uncles and clockwork trains,
Gran coaxing me to the piano
as Gramp took "Tom Bowling" at a bellow;
sugared almonds and turkish delight 
and staying up late far into the night;
carols round the Christmas tree 
that ring through all eternity.

Christmas, before its significance registers,
is all aura and magic
that come before, and lead us like a star
to the manger.

For we were once children,
that we might see the light of stars
and feel their delight;
so that now, fully grown, 
we may come to the crib with second sight, 
holding the hand of second self, the child, 
to worship.


Ron Cretchley