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On Christmas
I’m never sure which way to
turn to sing
before the buzzing crowds of
Christmas fans
or even if a song is best to
bring
to greedy mouths and
ever-grasping hands.
It overwhelms the senses,
giddy yet
alarming, expansiveness
abounding---
the brotherhood of credit
cards and debt
the tinsel-wrapped carols
resounding.
But when, at night, it gets
quiet at last
and gifts are chosen, hidden
till the day—
the mania, the shopping
frenzy past—
I can hear it, humming my
stress away.
There is a peace. I think it
sounds like snow.
That peace. One gift I wish
I could bestow.
Don't you love listening to the quiet? Happy Peace, Samantha.
ReplyDeleteI do :-)
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