I wrote this in an email to my family recently during an email war (not in the bad sense of the word “war,” we just emailed a lot in a short period of time). Thanks goes to my brother Joel for some scribal corrections and editing.
A Christmas Lament of Ben (To be accompanied by a mouth harp)
Oh, where shalt thou lay down thy head,
Will it be in an office or on a couch,
Oh, that thou will have internet access,
No matter where I find thy resting place.
The nephews surround me, Oh Lord,
I hear their footsteps approaching,
When I rise, I hear them,
I listen to them while on my bed,
Hear my cry, Oh Merciful One,
Is there no place where I can’t hear them?
And yet, I am renewed in the morning,
As I smell sweet cinnamon rolls, the nectar of life,
I dine with pleasure, they nourish my bowels,
Thou must eat them with haste before the runners’ return,
For this nourishment for sure, Oh Lord, we shall tempst them not.
I am surrounded by a whole host of kinspeople, My Lord,
But somehow I still find solitaire, or Soduko, or a TV,
This is where I want to be Lord, this is the depth of my heart,
Blessed with the innumerable riches of family, I give You the glory,
You are not far from us, Lord, when we are together.
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