Each Christmas the coniferous trees
Stand righteously
Bedecked in their fir finery
on hill or home ~
While the Ash turn ashen in their nudity
The Maple exposed, stands frigidly
No adornment covering in the leafless breeze.
But the stately Spruce and Pine
Shine like the star, spangled
Bedazzled, bejeweled
Dispelling darkness ~
Lighting hearts, untangled
Awaiting Christmas bliss
We knowledge our need for this.
Leaning in, washing,
soaping away the day,
I broodingly eye the sudsy water …
coil and swirl down the drain,
taking the grime of life with it.
Is that weariness I see clinging to the
basin edges? I wipe it clean, loosening it’s grip
before it finds me again, re-settling.
Photo: Shutterstock
To prepare, I find myself as usual,
Checking my list,
Wishing for more time at my disposal
I spent it frivolously, obviously,
Because I feel unready for the gathering
of family and friends,
Presents not purchased, wrapped.
The faux turkey not baked, no snacks!
I suffer all the angst around me,
People drowning in their distress.
They have done the same.
Rushing to and fro, they seek a savior.
I recount 60 Christmas’s past in my favor.
How perfectly I remember them as
Ready or not, they warmed my heart.
Troubles faded in the aura of goodwill
And cries of “good enough!” filled the air
Peace, Peace, Peace on Earth, we were there.
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