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The Ancient Christmas Tree
A Dream Memory
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The ridge out the window was blanketed white
With snow that had fallen that long winter’s night.
A lad of eleven, I woke to the noise
Of far-away shouts from the neighborhood boys
Who were rolling up snowballs and forts for a fight.
But nobody asked me to join in their play;
I was awkward and tongue-tied with little to say.
And I had no sports skill—if I joined the game
Then our team would be trounced. It was always the same,
So I kept to myself. I just read every day.
Still, Christmas was near, and the snow shimmered white;
And I felt like I had to be part of the sight!
I yawned and I stretched and crawled out of my bed.
I put on my boots and a scarf on my head.
My mother yelled “Make sure your jacket’s on tight!”
I hiked to the clearing expecting to feel
Cold joy in the snowdrifts, to caper and reel;
But I was so lonesome. The clouds seemed so bleak.
I sculpted snow angels from drifts near the creek
And still I felt outcast. This hurt would not heal.
I trekked through the snow, up the hill to the trees.
While tasting the breath of the whistling breeze
I saw a huge pine of miraculous height!
I stopped, for beside it I felt very slight.
I felt like it knew me; I dropped to my knees.
I gazed up with awe: this tree reached to the sky!
I knew it was holy but could not say why.
I knelt there transfixed by its power and grace:
A gnarled old pine garbed in delicate lace
Which soared to the clouds and saw God eye to eye.
A vision then struck me: my mind wandered free.
I heard a strange voice emanate from the tree!
“The snow that you trudge through, each flake is unique!
In this simple fact is the answer you seek.
So be of good cheer. You are precious to me.
“I see you through eyes which watched over your birth.
I have more discernment than those who rule Earth;
For men live in shadow, and too few are wise.
But truly I see you through heavenly eyes:
A sensitive boy of most excellent worth!”
The tree then grew quiet but in my mind’s eye
I saw it lit up from its base to the sky!
The wind offered whispers of God’s blessed Son;
That Christmas means Heaven and Earth become one,
And pain doesn’t matter for God’s always nigh.
I stayed until twilight with nary a chill,
Then heard both my parents shout, searching the hill.
They found me. They saw how my spirit soared free!
They hugged me. I whispered my thanks to the Tree,
Then trudged with them homeward with new strength of will.
My heart and my mind were no longer at war
For Christ would inhabit my soul evermore.
Near home, I beheld a bright star in the sky.
It glittered and twinkled as if God’s own eye.
I smiled to myself. Then I walked in the door.
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Brian Yapko is a lawyer who also writes poetry. He lives in Wimauma, Florida.
Wow, Brian! “Which soared to the clouds and saw God eye to eye.”! You tell this wonderful dream so well, it seems it must have been real! Christmas does indeed mean that “heaven and earth become one.” Thank you for this gift of poetry. Merry Christmas!
Thank you so much, Cynthia! Well, the story is true in a sort of dream-vision-reverie sense. But the words “heaven and earth become one” is true in every sense possible! Happy Boxing Day!
A beautiful poem Brian, one that took me back to my youth. It brought back many memories, some good, some not so good. A nice poem for Christmas, thank you.
Thank you very much, Phil! I hope you had a very merry Christmas!
What a beautiful poem Brian. It also took me back to my shy and awkward youth and how we overcome the difficulties we all face at some time in our lives.
Thank you very much, Norma. Yes, that shy and awkward youth is something a lot of us have experienced. For me, I’m not 100% sure it’s over!
I believe in epiphanies and the Holy Spirit speaking to us whether via a sunset, in a church service, or through a tree. You told your story of being in a reverie beautifully and meaningfully. How fitting this is for our Christmas cionsideration and contemplation.
Thank you very much, Roy. I believe in epiphanies too — those white light experiences when God speaks to us through the Holy Spirit. Life changes, understanding grows and perhaps a relationship with God deepens.
A perfect poem for Christmas, Brian. Thank you for it.
Thank you very much indeed, jd! I hope you had a wonderful Christmas!
Beautiful storytelling, as always, Brian. It’s soft motion is very peaceful. Also, thank you so much for this line: ‘Christmas means Heaven and Earth become one’. It’s a big Christmas takeaway. Merry Christmas to you and your loved ones. God bless.
Thank you so much, Shamik! I love your description of the work as “peaceful” because a movement from unhappiness and anxiety to inner peace is its ultimate goal. And thank you for your spotlight on the idea that “Heaven and Earth become one.” I love to meditate upon this idea and what it really means.
Brian, your poem is unique and full of wonder. Please let me comment beyond the personal story, because you have put indications of much more in it. The title, “The Ancient Christmas Tree” cannot mean just an old tree you happened to find on a solitary walk in the woods. It’s an archetype. The subtitle “A Dream Memory” also indicates something of the subconscious in addition to the charming story of a lonely boy who wandered off one Christmas and thus caused his parents some concern. The tree that is your focus here is first of all what Mircea Eliade would call a kratophany, a manifestation of power. It’s the kind of tree one might find encircled by a ritual rope in Japan, to warn passersby of its spiritual importance in the native Shinto religion. In your poem, it quickly becomes (again using Eliade’s terms from the anthropology of religion) a hierophany, or manifestation of the sacred. Finally, in its communication with you, it becomes still greater, as a theophany or manifestation of God. This is not just nature religion; the terms refer to what happens in the most highly developed sensibilities of advanced religion. And therefore your final statement, “Then I walked in the door” is both the end of your realistic story at home with your parents, AND speaks of new life in a spiritual realm. This poem tells of beginning new life, in sacred time and space, that Eliade says human beings cannot live without. Or rather, he says that modern individuals who deny sacred time and space deprive themselves of truly human life. This Christmas poem is a tale of finding a door to life in an archetypal dream experience. I love it.
This is such a fantastic and insightful comment, Margaret — thank you! You’ve educated me concerning scholarship that is completely new to me. I did not know anything about kratophany, hierophany of theophany except, perhaps, at the most intuitive of levels. But know that you’ve brought them up, my immediate reaction is “but of course!”
Your description of the sacred Shinto tree immediately clicked because I saw such a tree in Kagoshima and accepted it and understood its holiness in my heart without ever bothering to analyze why this should be. Some things — especially when they concern matters of faith and sanctity — simply transcend analysis. That same intuitive sense is what underlies this poem.
You are quite correct about the tree in my poem which does indeed reveal itself as a manifestation of God. That is why “tree” is finally capitalized in the penultimate stanza. It takes a little while for it to dawn on the 11-year old speaker precisely Who it is that he has been interacting with! As Roy mentions above, the Holy Spirit has worked through the interaction between the boy and this tree to create an epiphany. Your description of sacred space and time is most apt here. And you are very right that the boy’s entry into his home under the watchful and approving eye of the Christmas star doubling as God’s own eye is the beginning of a new spiritual life. I am over the moon that you love this poem. I put a piece of my yearning heart into it.
Speaking of things that break the heart a little, I was touched by this.
Merry Christmas, Brian.
I’m so pleased that this poem touched your heart, Monika! Thank you! Happy Boxing Day!
Brian, this is a truly beautiful Christmas treat of a poem. You capture the angst of a troubled boy perfectly… an angst I am certain many will relate to in these confusing and chaotic times.
For me, nature holds many a wise message by divine design. I believe the symbolism of the evergreen tree of Christmas is eternal life born from the death of Jesus Christ. This makes the “strange voice” coming from the tree familiar, precious, and life-changing… proven by the boy’s heart-touching reaction. My favorite line: “The snow that you trudge through, each flake is unique!” says so much about today’s society and how everyone is expected to think the same, feel the same, do the same… God had no such intention for us in mind, and these superb words sing to me! They’re beautiful and encouraging, as is the entire poem. It hits the right note for Christmas… and it’s brought tears to my eyes with its wonder. Brian, you are the master of storytelling within the confines of well-crafted poems. Thank you very much indeed. Wishing you a happy Boxing Day!!
Thank you so much, Susan! I am so pleased by your emotional reaction to this piece and its story-telling. That angst is something probably all of us have gone through — especially poets. After all, who becomes a poet without having a little angst in reserve?
Your view of the evergreen tree is, I believe, completely right. Am I correct in believing that Christmas trees (decorated and originally candle-lit evergreens) originated in Germany and were then brought to England and popularized by Prince Albert? Either way, they do indeed symbolize eternal life which is, of course, what Christ brings to those of us who believe. (As stated in John 11:25 “I am the resurrection and the life…”)
And I’m especially pleased that you like the snowflake line. Oh my gosh, can I tell you how many incarnations this line went through to try to make it like it hasn’t been uttered 1000 times when indeed it has? But to an 11-year old this might be an important revelation. And, hackneyed or no, the message is an important one. We are unique, every one of us. And we have our own minds and our own hearts and we deserve better than to act like a mere herd of followers, mere lemmings jumping off a cliff. Let me repeat: Humans deserve better than that! So you’re social interpretation of this metaphor is spot-on and very much on my mind. I’ve grown to despise the word “diversity” but I’ll take the idea of individual uniqueness as a wonderful attribute.
Thank you again for your wonderful comment, Susan. Happy Boxing Day to you and Mike!
Brian, your reactions to the beauty around you remind me of my own. The main differences? Replace the pines with mesquites and the wintry snow with rain and mud! Beautiful and inspirational even for a Deep South Texas kid.
Thank you so much, Mike! Now, you see…? You must write a poem about the mesquites and the wintry snow, rain and mud! I’d live to read a poem by you about being moved by the Holy Spirit in a Deep South Texas milieu!
Bryan, challenge accepted. I, however, do not write at the furious pace of you and many others here, so maybe the first half of the new year?
I’m so glad, Mike! Can’t wait to read it!
In Germanic mythology, the great tree Yggdrasil was part of the entire structure of the universe, and individual trees and groves were sacred to the Germans both as places for worship and as homes for individual gods. Tacitus describes this in great detail.
Certain trees are enveloped in an aura of mystery and power. Even as a devout Catholic schoolboy, I often felt a nearly irresistible pull towards what seemed an overwhelming religious mana in the Germanic worship of trees.
And yes, Prince Albert brought the “Tannenbaum” to England, but it is also true that the English had their own ancient custom of the Yule log, which was certainly a survival of an ancestral Germanic habit.
Thank you for the history, Joe. Christmas lore is always interesting but the origin(s) of Christmas trees and how they fit into pre-Christian thinking is particularly fascinating.
Wow… just, wow. Was this an actual dream?
The speaker reminds me of myself at that age in a lot of ways; if he’s you, I guess that’s because it’s common among creative types. The connection between the pine tree and God is also interesting, especially given that the Cross is also referred to as a tree in the New Testament. I’ve seen trees featured as almost-godlike characters in fantasy, and with your description, I can see why. Well done!
Thank you so much, Josh! Well… as a poem, let’s just say that it’s 100% true fiction. The only truly autobiographical poem I’ve ever had published on SCP was my jury duty/murder trial poem from July 2022 “In the First Degree.” The Ancient Christmas Tree is more poetic reverie than authentic dream.
I’m very glad you brought up the tree as a symbol of the Cross. Although the Cross is not referred to as a tree in the Gospels, it is so in Acts. So my tree does indeed refer back to the Cross, which is why the wind which blows through it “whispers of God’s blessed Son.” I also aimed for a connection to the Tree of Life which, of course, relates to Eden but also, in Jewish lore, is a descriptor for the Torah as suggested by Proverbs 3:18 : “Wisdom is a tree of life to those who take hold of her…”
Thank you for sharing your heart with us… so personal is this special time with Him!
Blessings evermore.
Thank you so much, Peg! Blessings to you as well!