come Friday I will be sad
that Christmas is over
few celebrate it all twelve days
anymore
my heart will be heavy
not because of the gifts
which will have all been given and received
and not because of things done
and left undone
cookies can still be baked
and stories can still be shared
instead I will be sad
over the loss of vision and hearing
that seems so much better
during Advent
as we watch and wait and listen
we watch with anticipation
for the lights
in the homes
and in the yards
that mean Christmas is near
we watch for the special gift
and the smiles on friendly faces
as we wander through shops
and markets
we watch for the lone light
on the back porch that
tells us someone is there,
that we are welcome,
and we are not alone
we watch for the colors
that bring cheer to the season,
the colors on ornaments,
sweaters, socks,
paper, and ribbons
we watch for the knowing glance
of a dear one we love,
and the smile that tells us we
will always be known
and loved
we listen for the sound of delight
as little ones and old alike
catch their first glimpse
of the lights so deliberately strung and hung
we listen closely for the words,
for the longing in the voice,
so we can find the perfect gift
we listen better and intently,
seeking clues about those we love
and what they like
we listen to the songs
that warm our hearts
and lift our spirits
through the stories they tell,
songs whose lyrics we know
and have sung for years and years
we listen to the quiet
and think about that night
in the barn that started all of this
listening and watching
and waiting
oh so many years ago
and then, as December comes
to a close,
we tidily box it all up–
this acute awareness–
and we hurry on our way,
back to the busy days
and the to do lists
and resolutions
and whatnot
and we forget sometimes
to listen and watch
and wait
until the magic
of the holiday comes
’round again
and reminds us
that listening and watching
and gathering with
those we love
is the greatest gift of all
I Might Need A Nap 