The Figure of a Priest
with purple surplice
funereal
wandered in the heavens
wandered in the night
borne
on sleigh of air and
mists
just
just
as Santa Claus on sleigh
round Christmas time and
day.
But
now
it be not
Christmas Day:
alas! this year
Christmas be too far
away
and
wonders in the night
amidst comet starlight
but
now
but
now
the Figure of a Priest
with purple surplice
funereal
wandered in the heavens
wandered in the night
borne
on sleigh of air and
mists
just
just
as Santa Claus on sleigh
round Christmas time and
day.
This priest is more of an icon than a person, which is probably why you qualify him as a figure. He seems to be absorbed in his own affairs, removed from the intense burning pain you are sensing. He certainly has no sense there is a child of God who needs his ministry as he complacently wanders the clouds. The repetition of the first stanza seems to emphasize you can get no solace from this priest figure. It's frustrating.
Priest = Santa Claus I think Freud would have a field day with that association You know he thought god was just a big father figure And what is Santa but a father figure Well I can do without both I had to shave off my beard last year because it had turned white which meant people called me Santa (strangers in stores calling me Santa!) so off went my beard of 25 years this past season ALL BECAUSE OF THAT GUY AT THE NORTH POLE!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Last August when I read this poem for the first time I treated it as a case study in belief systems, and the fragility of the Santa Claus custom collapsed under the weight of a name like Freud. A truly ancient myth has no such problem. Its origins are unknown, no one can walk around it so to speak and see it is not connected by heavenly threads to heaven itself. When we walk around Santa Claus we see price tags and wrapping paper, but also a benevolent philanthropist who is especially kind to children and has a soft spot for wounded animals. Those traits now trump my earlier imposition of sociological criteria. In the spirit of Christmas good will I withdraw THAT STUFF and relace it with - the poems above.