A Lifetime of Christmas Poetry
My mom, Raynette Forister Eitel, passed away in September of 2022, age 85, drifting away into dementia. It was tragic to watch this woman who loved words, who was a poet and teacher, fade away into wordlessness after a lifetime of crafting poetry.
Mom had a tradition of writing a new Christmas poem each year and sending it to friends and relatives. The mailing list grew each year, and people always told us they looked forward to mom’s Christmas poems. She published some in a couple little books. There are too many to post just once a day during the month of December, but I’ll choose some of the best.
Christmas in the Desert
by Raynette Eitel
It is Christmas in the desert.
There are miracles here.
Footprints stretch across the sand
As though three men following a star
From afar left their trail to show the way.
The night sky, gift-wrapped in silver
And tied with glittery tangles of stars
Is placed just outside my window.
Red rivers of dawn flow across the sky.
A mesquite bush glows as though on fire,
But is not consumed.
Rocks hold remnants of sea creatures,
Of seashells, of old oceans covering this place.
Somewhere there are splinters of an ancient ark.
I see far enough in this clear air
To know that mountains are moving,
Shaking loose all the prophets,
Scattering them across the pristine land.
So I strain to hear God speaking,
To understand the songs angels are singing
And to comprehend a newborn baby’s cry.
It is Christmas in the desert.
I don’t know why,
But there are miracles here.
Writing Rhetorically 