Red and white of Santa’s call

Passing dancing shadows on that winters night, the dancing crimson red upon the stairs sliding up the walls.

The wardrobe white, so tall, so safe, the place I used to hide.

Pausing now the shadow stands awhile, through cracks in wardrobe door I see and gripped by fear, my breath I hold.

Dancing red, the shadow moves, its Christmas time and Santa comes, expect this Santa does not come with gifts, not gifts for now, but gifts for future days to come when understanding seeps through the very cracks of unsealed memory and floods out the very light with in, these gifts this Santa brings are rare and harsh, the very core of darkness seeds to plant to bloom another day.

The wardrobe white, so tall so safe, the red reflects itself and spills forth the blood of tomorrow and tomorrow ever after, water will not flow to wash away the seeds here in this santa brings. The red, the white, the dark the light, its Christmas time where happiness abounds.

Cowering now I try to shrink beneath the shadows, slip further back, be gone from here. Away from red, away from white, anywhere to avoid the light. Its Christmas time where children prey for Santa’s call, where red nosed reindeer dance, and play, where once I hid myself away deep with in the wardrobe bounds.

Bursting forth the world springs free, the shadow red, now beholds the prize he sought, and from the bounds of wardrobes world that little child is pulled. Memory here begins to slip, the red the white they merge into one, the child no place it knows, the thoughts or words beyond its years, it does not understand.

The shadow red dancing now upon the walls, the empty wardrobe doors lay open, the treasure given up, downstairs the Christmas lights begin to flash, the silent Christmas tree with secret gifts, none so secret than the gift this Santa brings, this face so well known that masks a stranger now with in, that plants a ticking gift deep inside the mind of child that will tick and tick till future date and then explode when understanding comes and pours out all, and spew forth more damage second time around.

Its cold now and child’s silent tears begin to fall, though why it does not understand, it knows not of these things that Santa brought, but knows to well to fear the dancing shadow red upon the evening stairs. Its years from now when understanding comes, and memory lapse joins past and present fields filling in the missing pieces that make the puzzle whole. Yet here and now the ticking starts as Santa slips away.

Christmas day so full of chear and happy thoughts, Santa’s red now gone his shadow still remains tucking nicely into festive bird, slaughterd for the seasons fun, upstairs the empty wardrobe sits alone, its treasure gone. Time and time again.

Tick tick tick………each passing second……drawing on until that Christmas gift unfolds.

I always hate this festive time of year.


~ by Duma Key on October 27, 2008.

7 Responses to “Red and white of Santa’s call”

  1. Instead I love this festive time of year… There’s love and joy on the air… 🙂

  2. I have experienced both the best and the worst Christmas times. Depending on what age I was and in whose charge I was. The latter years were always wonderful, filled with love and light that the two greatest people in the world who took me in radiate so naturally, but in the earlier or the times when it was though best that I was sent to the other I remember it not as something good, not as something special, but of something so completely different.

    I am guessing at the moment I will be staying here this Christmas, especially with the way things are right now, but as much as spending the time alone is not something I look forward too its also not something I completely reject.

    I hope that your time this year will be filled with laugher.

    I’m noticing that your regressing back into memories here? You know I have been told many times that just before you move forward you have to go back to face the memories, keep delving – as painful as they might seem, reliving them is actually the first step to letting go.

  3. hello there 🙂 thanks for your messages on my blog ❤
    i like how your comments were like poems, in themselves 🙂

    i couldn’t help but think this exact same thing from lou-Lou; “You know I have been told many times that just before you move forward you have to go back to face the memories, keep delving – as painful as they might seem, reliving them is actually the first step to letting go.”

    lately i have been reliving the past, mainly through my blog..i think lou is right on the ball with that statement, at least i hope so 🙂

  4. Good writing! what I love about your writing is how detailed it is! You really have a way of drawing in the person reading. Thanks for your comment on “The Shady Life That I’ve Lived.” I’m glad you enjoyed it. Keep up the good work, til later…

  5. Duma Key… I was struck with these words and how your throw them… they seem to diverge and in disarray find a profound purpose… you are a gifted weaver of words and memories perhaps…

  6. I was so happy when I caught up on your posts…I feel a new and good energy here!

    This may sound strange, but hopefully you will understand what I mean.
    When I finally embraced my past (including what I call the shadow times) I held the power over it. I can’t describe all the good and amazing things that have unfolded since!! I see that for you too.

    I love how you call her your light, and she is a light. I have to tell you though..she appeared because she is drawn to YOUR LIGHT. The light many of us see. 🙂

    I am looking forward to reading your words as your journey unfolds.

  7. How are things?

    I hope your off being incredibly happy somewhere and that its not all work, work, work at the Pub!

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