these days are sweet
my little ones are preparing,
counting the seconds
until Christmas morning.
like the original children
naming the coarse sugar
that sparkles on the tongue
from the curve of a cookie

I am tempted to hide
from the loud goodness that is here
but I enter the kitchen of seasons
composed and ready
my tranquility measured out
in spoonfuls
by my God who knows how much I need

today, everyday

And so life goes on
dogs fight and get hurt
unplanned vet visits are added
to an already busy week,
somehow school gets fitted in,
the toddler screams for a 'nu nu'
Mama tries to understand
as the laundry quietly grows
and lunchtime rolls round again

But later the lights are lit
on the living room tree
and the world becomes low and pretty
all woes forgotten, forgiven even,
the sounds are soothed in the dim space
and now appreciated for the life and soul they represent

the light always moves us like that
showing over and over a place of birth
a sudden energy, a new spirit
that makes everything brighter.

It's the season

It's the season of sparkles

and lights, evergreens and globes,

smiles and counting down,

full days and forgotten diets.

It's the season of caroling, 

red scarfs and hats,

plates of cookies, homemade and sugary

of silent nights, 

stars that appear in the sky, magically.

It's the season of the nativity

being shepherds or angels,

Mary wearing blue, Joseph standing by

in awe of what his woman has done.

It's the season of a gift given

wrapped and unwrapped

so inspiring

the thank you note is a book

written day in, day out

until the season comes again

and we find the next chapter is only beginning.