You start, for me, with curved red ribbon and candles
and darkness- a cold, bitter night, made
sweeter with life
holding on.
You end with champagne and hats, horns and music,
sometimes, fireworks-
and if we’re premature,
a kiss.
In between, it’s expectation and the delight of a
perfectly chosen gift- the taste, the
sound, the smell of blessings,
even small.
The magic of the northern lights and snow (for me),
trees and children with questions
I have patience
to answer.
The poor eating a few more meals and travelers
taken in more easily, gladly maybe,
the precedent heavily
in mind.
Yours is the crispness of life, different and quiet
but still there- awaiting the notice of
a passing eye simply, the
sly patience
of truth.
~DGS