Exchanging Christmas cards is a tradition that I choose to hold on to. There are people in my life I haven’t seen or talked to in years, decades even, yet we still exchange cards every year. It’s a lifeline. A loveline. A way to connect beyond any reason. I don’t fault anyone who opts out. It’s a time consuming commitment.
We don’t send a long letter anymore. The most I can get out is a sticker for the back with the very basic information. But I do enjoy reading the long letters that arrive. I don’t even care if it’s braggy, braggy. I have a friend whose tradition is to open all the holiday cards at once on Christmas morning. I tend to savor each one as it comes.
Art cards express a dedication of time and creativity. This year I received a beautiful collage art card from friend and fellow Inkling, Linda Mitchell. She says she “dabbles” but this card, and other work I’ve seen by her recently, are placing her into a higher artist category. She has talent, and I appreciate and admire her work.
My father, John Gibson, is an artist who created art cards for years. In 2013, I created poems to accompany each card and collected them into a small chapbook, Illuminate. Today, I am featuring one of these cards and its poem.
The Pointillist
She laid him in a manger because there was no room for them in the inn.
He sits at the drawing table,
taps the paper
as an instrument.Music comes forth
in tones
dark and light.Rhythm
from his heart
to his hand beats–syncopated in time–
drumming out each dot
point by pointImage
emerges in focus
inviting the eyeI go with him
to the stable,
kneel next to the cow,smell the light scent of hay,
listen to the breath
of a child,adore with Mary.
Margaret Simon, all rights reserved
from Illuminate
Reflections on the Teche 