Stephan, I am not a man who cries easily, but when I saw your little characters and those 20 names written in the stars, I was totally moved to tears. Thank you for the lovely tribute. We need to laugh and we need to cry as the time is appropriate. I shared this with my wife and we were both very touched by your sensitive portrayal … reminiscent of Magritte’s “Desir” in the stars, if you know that one. Bravo, my friend.
This is a poem that I wrote shortly after the tragedy that was published in The Faircloth Review (you can read it there, if you wish).
Santa’s Sleigh Pauses Over Newtown, Christmas 2012by Harry Calhoun
This night is different, when the beloved myth-man carries his toysover Connecticut. I have known for years that Santa is real. My mothertold me that he is love, the good, the soul of all of us. But tonight his reindeer
in their animal sense and he both feel it: something is wrong. Souls wrenched from tiny bodies. Presents that can’t be delivered. Anguish that brings tears to his loving old eyes.
Santa carries the sadness of all of them with him, circlesthe town and reaches deep in his Christmas sack for the rarest gifts of all: Love, forgiveness, understanding, to give to Sandy
Hook, to Newtown, to the world. Love and a little forgiveness, he has and gives it all. But when he reaches for understanding, he finds there is none left to give. Someone has fired rage-filled
rounds into all comprehension.We all have to be Santa tonight. Love each other, every day is our gift, pray tomorrow soothes the heartbreak of what happened that day
Stephan, I am not a man who cries easily, but when I saw your little characters and those 20 names written in the stars, I was totally moved to tears. Thank you for the lovely tribute. We need to laugh and we need to cry as the time is appropriate. I shared this with my wife and we were both very touched by your sensitive portrayal … reminiscent of Magritte’s “Desir” in the stars, if you know that one. Bravo, my friend.
This is a poem that I wrote shortly after the tragedy that was published in The Faircloth Review (you can read it there, if you wish).
Santa’s Sleigh Pauses Over Newtown, Christmas 2012by Harry Calhoun
This night is different, when the beloved myth-man carries his toysover Connecticut. I have known for years that Santa is real. My mothertold me that he is love, the good, the soul of all of us. But tonight his reindeer
in their animal sense and he both feel it: something is wrong. Souls wrenched from tiny bodies. Presents that can’t be delivered. Anguish that brings tears to his loving old eyes.
Santa carries the sadness of all of them with him, circlesthe town and reaches deep in his Christmas sack for the rarest gifts of all: Love, forgiveness, understanding, to give to Sandy
Hook, to Newtown, to the world. Love and a little forgiveness, he has and gives it all. But when he reaches for understanding, he finds there is none left to give. Someone has fired rage-filled
rounds into all comprehension.We all have to be Santa tonight. Love each other, every day is our gift, pray tomorrow soothes the heartbreak of what happened that day