Twas The Night Before Count Time
’Twas the night before Christmas, and all along the tier,
Not a soul was stirring, ’cause incidentally the CERT¹ Team was here,
Boxers, T-Shirts, shower shoes, all embarrassingly adorned,
In situational frustration, the inmates solemn and forlorn.
After a time cell searches all complete, steel doors now secure,
Relieved to avoid a potential hurricane, all grateful for sure,
We put our property back, with holiday care,
A great sigh of relief, that everything still there.
My cell-mate quickly, back nestled in his bed,
With remnants of the holiday meal dancing in his head,
And I with my OCD, rearranging unnecessarily,
A transfer approved, so I am only here temporarily.
When suddenly against the door, there arose such a clatter,
My cell-mate and I startled, asking “What’s the matter?”
Clipboard banging, “TOP BUNK, YOU ALIVE?!”
The CO’s laughter, “Count time!” signaling he was not kind.
At the stainless steel desk, I sit with my notebook,
When out of the window I stole a look,
In the distance a “fluffle” of rabbits, scurrying for bits to eat,
I declare we looked eye to eye, then it winked at me.
The moon through the window, cast a ghostly-white glow,
Making everything shimmer like a holiday first snow,
I settled in for a late-night writer’s ride,
In my notebook, the ink ready to glide.
When it was heard in a twinkling, a few cells down,
The laughter of others, such a joyous sound,
That rare kind of joy that survives any place,
The kind you can spot by the light on one’s face.
¹ Corrections Emergency Response Team
I rearranged the desk, and began writing in pieces,
Reflecting on time, transformation, and blessings received,
Though the humor and hardships share more than we say,
Those doing DBI² find both can balance the weight of a day.
We joke to survive, we laugh to stay sane,
We flip struggle sideways to lessen the strain,
Now although the holidays highlight what’s missing and gone,
Still, we build our reasoning in Christ, to push and hold on.
So I wrote through the night, my pen dancing free,
About hope, about healing, about who in Him we can be,
Then I whispered my wish, a shooting star flew across the sky,
Not for gifts, having received a few, rather for peace here inside.
For the kind of redemption that offers release,
The kind we all hope for and continue to seek,
When I heard in my spirit, as sleep finally came,
A quiet voice echoing, calling my name,
Jeffery, (Insert Your Name)
You’ve been redeemed…
Merry Holidays and Happy New Year.
