December.

December’s chill hugs me close,
An icy blanket wrapped around my form.
My mind is tangled with nostalgia
Among the warm glow enveloping the room.

Ghosts of children haunt the walls—
Memories that are bittersweet.
The sweetness remains in the souls that roam,
But bitterness recognizes their loss.

Christmas idealizes snow and ice
And the birth of an innocent Son
Whose purpose was to die.

Why pretend that December brings cheer?
Here, there are short days and longer nights.
I envy the Decembers of my dreams.

The death of the year reminds me of fears,
And I long for the birth of new life.
Strange.
That life I seek is found in the death
Of an innocent child whose mother
Held him tight.

What joy.
What scandalous joy.

My God gives me life in death,
And the death that brought life
Is celebrated in recognition
Of painful birth that brought great joy.

Pain and joy frolic hand-in-hand.

Thank God that there is no end.
Eternity caresses our heads.

Peace washes over earth, and
Good will flares in the hearts of men.

12.25.18