Writing Rhetorically

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.

When the Lowly Birth
by Raynette Eitel

When the Light of the World was born,
When the penumbra in Bethlehem
Was overcome in the scintillation
Of one star, empyrean chants
Broke the silence and no one knew
What changes were rising in the East.

A new way to the Father occurred
At the lowly birth, the Life
Whose first bed was but a manger.
Years later, he would coax
Lazarus from his dark tomb
And would one day walk away
From his own burial cloths.

When Truth made itself at home
In a simple crowded stable,
When angels sang out to shepherds
Across a mystic midnight sky
A young mother gave the Son of God
Her breast for comfort. The world slept,
Oblivious to miracles,
Unaware a new way would sweep
Through ancient temples, wandering winding
Streets of cold complacency
Century to century
Where the story would be told
Quietly one to one to one
Until at last the printed word
Proclaimed a new Prince of Peace.

I am the way, and the truth, and the light.
No one comes to the Father but by me.
John 14:6

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.

What Can It Be?
by Raynette Eitel

What can it be about Christmas
Which sends us back in time?
The candle’s glow,
A simple snow,
Our church bell’s ageless chime.

What can it be about Christmas
Which stirs the memory?
The carol sung,
The tinsel hung,
The fragrant, shining tree.

What can it be about Christmas
Which binds the young and old?
The gift of love,
One star above,
A matchless tale retold.

What can it be about Christmas
Which God and mortals share?
A Holy Night,
The dark made light,
And Peace on Earth the prayer.

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.

Los Regalos Por Cristo  (The Gifts for Christ)
by Raynette Eitel

For you I strung these red peppers
On the adobe wall.
For you I gathered piñon nuts
Sun-warmed and small.

For you I patted tortillas,
Round like the sun and gold.
For you I simmered frijoles,
All my clay pot could hold.

For you blue piñon smoke curls up
Like a woman’s prayer.
For you I scrub my niños
And comb their shiny hair.

At last I set luminarias
And give each candle light
To help you on your journey
This Holy Night.

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.

The Story of Love
by Raynette Eitel

Love came, radiant as a star,
Innocent as an infant,
Soft as a song in the night
Sung by heavenly hosts.

Love walked on troubled waters,
Turned water to wine,
Turned fishes and loaves to a feast,
And blind eyes were opened.

Yet someone spit on Love,
Hung Love on a cross,
Put Love in a tomb;
But Love would not die.

Now Love sits at the right hand
Of the Father
And shines in the eyes of children,
In candles set in windows,

In branches of my tree,
In my heart—
Still radiant as a star,
And warm as the noonday sun.