A Festive Invite
And I would’ve replied I’m sure
had it not been for the fact that I was otherwise occupied
joining in all the frivolous festivities of celebratory rituals
I had decided to attend once I had received the invite
from several artisan elves who were busy enjoying a widespread feast
of sugary delights among sparkling lights on evergreen limbs of trees
white strips of ivy and red dots of holly, small glass globes and snowflakes
discussing how much fun it was to laboriously chore away the day
for a season of time that more and more people found tiresome
as the elves and the gnomes and their fairy friends discussed
how different life was becoming
because of the failing infrastructure of their existence
and how some of them had spent nearly all summer on window sills
or hidden on tree limbs, among shrubbery and such
amid small droplets of water splattered from rain and fog
just waiting for a book to be opened to explain to the little humans
how elves were as real as them and busy working and fairies were too
and always busy fairying amid the corridors of the forests,
with small giggles of delight to draw a child’s eye to a flower
that the fairy had planted last year from a seed
that it used as an umbrella, more like a parachute
to land in just the right spot for the little person to see.
And I would’ve felt better if I could have told them not to worry
it's just a small phase of mankind and that they’ll grow out of it
but I couldn’t and it bothered me because I know the minds of men
with their overbearing nuisance in perpetual onslaughts of noises
and preoccupation with digital pixels of warfare and conflicts
of make believe journeys in conquering their monstrous minds
where they roam freely in an attempt to subdue humanity.
I was saddened for a moment as I watched a small elf
hold in its hand to show all the others a small little bear
it had spent hours carving out of a block of ceramic
just knowing that someone would see it and awe
take it from a shelf and give it a home where it would look lovely
sitting on a mantel or placed among family photographs
as part of the family itself, welcomed and appreciated for its craftsmanship
but alas, the small elf was dejected yet cheered by his friends
because the season was still young and there were many more hours
in which someone could still find his small chiseled bear just as majestic
as the statue of David or perhaps the great Thinker
carved out of stone by men who were fascinated and educated
and well aware of their friends the elves
whom they had been told about as a child in both story and song
and welcomed with open arms to live among them all the same.
I don’t remember now where I was going with all of this
except just to say that I would’ve have responded
to a small note of interest related to me by an acquaintance
but I was otherwise occupied making merry and bright
with lifelong friends who had been by my side, in life and imagination,
since I first heard of them so many years ago
and how happy they were to know me and thought of me often
hoping to sing songs and string garlands and be cheerful for no other reason
except that we were together as we’ve always been, eager and willing,
to be together as we are, both happy and satisfied, to be who we are.
