Earth Christmas

Note: I wrote this sonnet 20 or so years ago after reading a book by a language scholar who
made a case for Jesus Christ actually being an hallucinatory mushroom used as a
fertility symbol.

In Spring much follows the cold winter of retreat:
Yearnings begin and God rises from his tomb,
Soon again to brush the damp grasses with his summer heat,
And again plant faith where once was doom.
In Autumn a coupled Earth feels the Solstice nearing;
Her rythms pound in sweeping counts, and in time
She prepares for the coming celebration, not fearing
But embracing it, and joins on with the sublime.
A Christmas Eve of snow, in swaying fall,
Foretells the next day's customary bestowing;
A day on which She will share it all;
Tree up, cards sent, pies baked, juices flowing.
Then to death, in retreat again to wait
And cycle on from dawn to the holy date.