Lullaby in 5

  Seeking the musical epiphany of five golden rings…


There are many ditties, nursery and folk songs that are so old that their origins are left to conjecture. 

        This is apparently not one of them. While researching this hymn, lullaby, underground code, I have read that it is French, then English, now Irish so now I am guessing it’s Catholic, where countryside meets castle. The maids were having affairs with lords in the barnyard and bearing heirs game of thrones style. And Henry VIII’s truly was a reign of terror, not a whole helluva lot to be proud of there, especially killing Thomas Moore, his only conscience.

  • Code for are you sure you want to go there? After being told to expect to cry for hours again as part of exorcisms you must encounter, alone it seems, like a Christmas Carol, more confusing code that no one knows. Anymore. Now all the traditions lose their meaning and we arrive at the end of the road.

Following Queen Mary’s death, her sister Elizabeth persecuted Catholics who refused to recongize her as queen and head of the church. They were persecuted as ‘recusants,’ while priests were hunted men. Other dissenters, such as the Pilgrims who fled to Holland and later to newly settled America, were Protestants who also fell afoul of royal religious affiliation.

  • Such is business as usual, today, 2015 years “after Christ,” how the world still agrees to measure human time. 
  • Is it really possible to believe that religious identification should be used to limit a person’s rights?
  • This feels especially obvious as the wrong thing to do, legally, ethically, morally and logically, if you read the first three amendments before fomenting the vitriol needed to sell gladiator tournaments brought to you by oculus rift. 
  • The growing pissed off class of Americans includes most of us just in different manifestations. Try not to let your anger make you stupid. 


goodwill to men
peace on earth
HE who claims to be so full of righteousness is the one who has no wisdom in a crisis, purports the least evolved view, creates distraction through propaganda. Watch as “democracy” becomes the number one opiate of the masses! We make you want it and until you can’t love with out it. You end up needing it, but you can’t see that it will forever be out of reach. 


 Mankind said to the son of God “there is no room at the inn” and then of course killed him, so we’ve for this whole religion thing down pat, man is doing it right killing and persecuting in the name of their creator. Makes no sense on any level and yet here we are not talking about the mysteries but killing them off one by one til no prophets bother coming anymore…

I, will look for the brightest light in the night sky.


But it was the Catholics of Britain and Ireland who suffered most especially for nearly 300 years. From 1558 until 1829, Roman Catholics in England were not permitted to practice their faith openly, nor own property. 

The illegality is so basic a third grade civics glass would get IT. This bunch of immigrants who over many generations stole the land of the indigenous tribes  and called it manifest destiny. We call ourselves deserving and righteous when we are proven hypocrites in need of redemption.

We have listened but we have not heard.


At last, they are guided to the humble place among animals. The symbolism is  obvious. The innocent guarded by the lamb.


saint. nick

According to a tradition, it was during that time that someone during that era wrote the following carol as a catechism song for young Catholics. 

Catechism sounds dank and cold like word catacombs. 

In Borges’ labyrinth 

where Christmas is cancelled 


The five golden rings represent man’s fall from grace. 

Dream time access denied 

The Rings stand for the first five books of the Old Testament, the “law of Moses” so often referenced in scripture, the “Torah” as they are called by Jews. The Torah tells the story of man’s fall into sin and reconciliation through the Messiah (see Luke 24:25-27).

Six Geese A-laying Eggs are an almost universal symbol of new life. The “laying” geese, therefore, stand for the six days of creation (Gen. 1:31-2:2).

Between yesterday and today, mankind blew it. That’s what the twelve days appear to say.

The explanation, following the original lyrics, gives new meaning for some to the song ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas.” 




named grace

Christians long celebrated the 12 days following Christmas with feasting until the observance of Epiphany or Theophany.

fa la la la la


When you doubt your own ability to trust yourself, rewiring those synapses gets even more daunting.

 Inverted, those become five rings of failure with relentlessly staunch Pentateuch reminders of just how on the edge you are.

How do you make up for that?

Lucky 7, Suspect 6

Seven Swans a Swimming 

   Swans are regal but only after an awkward adolescence so they have depth to their beauty. 

Six geese a-laying 

    Geese get the grunt work,  sans alliteration a la “9 ladies dancing,” the lyrical understudy for the sleight of hand  transition from castle to stable–

Drummers Drumming, Pipers Piping, Lords a Leaping, Ladies Dancing, Maids a Milking, Swans a Swimming


We had raised hundreds of geese. Hector and Gertrude were lifelong mates and actually chose each other much to the dismay of Gus and Hortense who were never as much in love. It is true what they say about Canada geese. They mate for life. I saw it with my own two eyes.

Hector and Gertrude our Canada geese lifelong mates God knows how many broods…

  This is where I grew up with over 250 ducks, geese, 7 Hawks, a raccoon, many dogs, a horse, snakes, Pearl the pig, rabbits, an osprey, grebes, an mockingbird and a sparrow hawk named Spike.


I missed yesterday because it ended up not being a great day, and now I don’t really care about any of the same things I did last week. 

8 maids-a-milking 

We have had lords leap and “ladies” dancing, but as we slide towards the pagan winter celebration that coopted the birth of a controversial figure, a monolith of promise, a labyrinth of confusing messages for all of mankind.


It makes sense that we now get to the working woman who is keeping everyone fed, the one with chapped hands, the one born not of lord and lady blood but of low class origins. Yet as we approach the number one countdown to a day with complicated meaning, the maids are our last human entry in the “cumulative song” (that’s the form 12 Grand Gifts ).


  • The muscle memory of no room at the inn 
  • The truth must be hidden from plain sight 
  • There is something to bright shining stars 
  • Why do we never see them now? Or know they are alien ships not sent from some protector?
  • Have we killed wonder?
  • Who are we? Do we even know?

These are the thoughts that come to mind 8 days before the day an orphan was born.

Like me. A bastard child.

9 ladies dancing 

But you are part of everything 

But you are part of everyday 

The time bolsters 

Then tears asunder 

The sun is up 

The sky is blue 

It’s beautiful and so are you    



  The tree is almost finished. The red garland was a bitch. I just need a star. I May have to make one. 

Ten days 

Not that I’m counting other than to practice the discipline of writing an imaginary advent calendar since I was not disciplined enough to plan to have a real one so each day a door gets opened to reveal — what

That’s the part I’m not sure of. It was not a Christmas tradition in my family. But then when I think of Christmas tradition, I always think of that family brawl when my grandfather smacked my aunt at the table. My uncle lunged at my grandfather and my father (the giant at 5’8″) flailed about wrestling the both of them to the ground. As my mother tells it, next up was her scolding the Walker men for fighting at the Christmas dinner table (which was, alas, actually three or four wooden picnic tables covered with white table cloths).

Picnic tables cannot be disguised. I’m almost certain that my surly grandmother (we shall refer to her as the Mouth here) made mention of this at some point and not under her breath but so everyone could hear. The Mouth had once pulled me aside, her granddaughter who may have been 8 at the time, to tell me how awful my mother was and how my father never should have married her. 

My aunt, who was married to my father’s brother, the eldest son of the Mouth and the Crazy, who we will refer to as my manic-depressive genius grandfather who, when he drank gin, defined Jeckyl & Hyde.

Christmas dinner. White table cloths. Four grandchildren, 2 married and with their spouses. Witnesses to a wonderful Walker family Christmas.

Lords leaping – across the table to break up a fight…




The Ghost of Christmas Past fades yet lingers, as if having more to say.


11 days and counting 

Monday’s progression thus far finds me opening old notebooks and finding things that I wonder why I still have them and then i go on