I was instantly moved by Rob’s beautiful spoken word “Looking Up” — I could imagine his father making their childhood Christmas tree from simple scraps, and the joy of their family gathering round it. It moved me on the first listen, and now much moreso after spending many hours with his voice and words.

Jeris’s “What Child Is This” shimmering stems were a perfect framework for this mix. And Speck’s Winter Bells wander between the phrases, living to its title ;)

Merry Christmas.

Lyrics by robwalkerpoet

I
look
up at the
norfolk island
pine outside the red
brick toilet block, the way
the ancient branches grow horizontally
straight out of the trunk and I remember our
childhood
christmas
tree.


Too
poor
to buy
a fresh one
every year and
perhaps before the plastic ones,
dad made one. In a block of jarrah,
a thick round trunk with holes drilled to
receive silver-frosted pieces of dowelling which reduced
in length symmetrically as they climbed the home-made tree.
over these were draped fringed green cellophane creased from being folded
and stored away from previous years. many of the kids here now would think it hilarious but we thought our christmas tree was beautiful. and with it came unspoken things that many of these kids don’t have. stability. consistency. two loving parents and a feeling
of abundance
that they may
never know.