Poem

[window_of_time]

This is a Christmas poem of sorts, but certainly does not fall into the vein of normal 'Christmas' poetry. It's based mostly on my thoughts from last night.


Christmas Eve

And now the final gift’s unwrapped
all new pleasures here - and some less than -
are in this young place now trapped
so hope does pass to what has been.

The hour is late - with no silence
the world’s great things unveiled here
yet what is worthiest passes hence
the one I cannot receive’s so clear.

I have let go the perfect gift
held once in my own hands
my own folly has made this rift
and now opposite me it stands.

The quiet here does long endure
with no such peaceful end
as what was once so sure
true perfect love I hope to mend.

That one thing for which I truly hope
beyond all wishing here
the lasting strength myself to cope
against what’s not again so near.

The tree still stands lonely now
and all the gifts did find a place
the second chance which we do vow
is left without this comely grace.

A thousand cheers this day should bring
yet all are weak and sorrow filled
the joy of them is a hollow ring
without the one the time instilled.

This memory one game does awake
another by what is no more
and all the ease of time I do break
as I cannot see what this is for.

All good things now pass on by,
the joys and wonders from of old
what remains is being’s sigh
and no better story to be told.