Two Days Before Christmas

Two Days Before Christmas

Stores filled with presents to buy
for those who celebrate. For those who do not,
what do you do
when the majority of us sing and drink and eat too much?
Do you even change
your daily routine of stretching the pay check
to fill empty stomachs
and gentle bewildered youngsters who don’t understand
why those kids get new toys
and we don’t? Do you explain what's happening and why we get together
with relatives we cannot
relate to or accept or deal with or do you just pass off to a later
discussion you don’t want to start?
It’s the bubbles we
currently live in that need explanation
before we are gone
with our age old family stories
of mince meat
and figgy pudding and yuletide choral hymns.
A gift of a smile and peace to all
matters, not the religion or faith or suspicions, but serves
to unite one and all.


© Catherine Woods 2017

Miscellaneous Thoughts At Christmas Time

At this time of year, let's review all that has happened.

Are You Now At Peace?

Your brother called me this morning to say you’d passed. Only two days before,
he’d called to say you were in the hospital again. Your body was shutting down;
one organ at a time; no strength to live another moment.
You are my sister of a sort; same father, different mother. I met yours just last year.
She’s also gone.
I feel no sorrow at your passing, only relief
that your suffering is over. I hope you left here content with what you said,
and did, and are now at peace wherever your existence finds its resting place
among the vastness of our universal reality.
I know we’ll meet again.


© Catherine Woods 2017

First Day of Winter

Again the snow is on the ground. The ice covers sidewalks and stairs. I remember back

when all we got was rain this time of year. I miss seeing green. Seasons change forcing us 

to confront our reluctance. Sitting around watching Netflix does not pay the hydro

or the taxes. Comfort is not healthy. Open up that door and walk your secrets and

anxiety outside where the sun is shining and you can open up your senses for renewal. Repay

your maker for the gifts your life has given you. Remember that from today the daylights hours 

are increasing; more light, more hope, more possibilities for you.

© Catherine Woods 2017

Montreal Remembers December 6th

Fourteen 

In starting out their lives, they picked a field
of study to which mostly men enlist. One man did not agree
and shot them dead. Their voices now live on in others;
and though his is not forgotten,
it is stained with
fear and hate.

Montréal, we do remember December 6th.


© Catherine Woods 2017

Feeling underappreciated isn't new

An Appreciation of Old Women

I open my mouth to speak ten words,

but you interrupt with your five more

after walking away in a huff. I resist a ‘call to arms’ 

to give your space, for understanding; you don’t, 

you never have, you never will. You see only those 

your age, your sex; uncomplicated, unqualified; you do not see my side, 

your own mother’s beliefs don’t count, don’t deserve 

pause or possible annotation (stet). You’ve built the wall

of unknown experiences before your eyes and will not

take off those shades.

Won’t you be surprised, at 65, when you read my letters to you, and realize

how right I was? How life could have been so much sweeter if you’d listened to me

when I’d offered my advice? 

I don’t talk just to hear myself, but to pass on the wisdom I have learned

by listening.

© Catherine Woods 2017

Stream of Consciousness

It's like the rain in November. It continues to fall, and doesn't stop .

The Gloaming

Irish ancestors call to me
Rolling hills and first laughter
Smooth pebbles in a well-worn shoe
Breathe in and all you can smell is the ocean
Open your eyes to majestic permanence of green
Hold your heart close for it will break in two
As a siren whispers your name
At sunrise

© Catherine Woods 2017

Uncomfortable

I have not worn the peacock blue cashmere sweater that you bought me for Christmas. I could not tell you at the party because my mother would have caused a scene. And we both know she would put the blame on us instead of letting sleeping dogs lie.

The news was on the television when I came into the family room this morning. Another high profile male newscaster was fired for inappropriate sexual behaviour. You turned toward me and we both shook our heads.

Your mobile phone rang as we walked to the subway station, hand in hand. You rejected the call. I understood. You are not ready to tell her we live together and she is going to be a new grandmother next December.

Exiting the Nordstrom’s, we see our mothers together stopped at a traffic light, staring at us. I am pushing a stroller; you are wearing my peacock blue cashmere sweater.


© Catherine Woods 2017