Trimming the tree…..Unruly branches twisting about,
bending and turning
until they stretch symmetrically
out to us.
Each tiny needle
holding on with all might,
to remain part of the
twinkling ambiance.
Each tiny finger of green
wriggles in hopes
of glimmering light.
We surround its being
from bottom to top
dancing,
delicate
beads of bright.
We pull from the past-
tiny reminders
admired and then lovingly
placed on a limb
"Baby's first Christmas",
"I love you mommy";
"Christmas 1986".
Each fond memory
hung with tiny hands
upon the heart of
Christmas.
I hear songs of season
and the softness
of giggles as
they hold the red bulbs
close to their face...
"Look mom,
My nose looks so big"
"Look mom,
my chin looks funny"
and I hold up a bulb
in hopes of showing them
how big my heart is
at that moment.
I wish I could
wrap up this time
like the gift that it is,
as my children lay
with their heads
resting upon
the skirt of the tree.
I watch the glow of the lights,
dancing across their smiles...
admired and then lovingly
placed on a limb
"Baby's first Christmas",
"I love you mommy";
"Christmas 1986".
Each fond memory
hung with tiny hands
upon the heart of
Christmas.
I hear songs of season
and the softness
of giggles as
they hold the red bulbs
close to their face...
"Look mom,
My nose looks so big"
"Look mom,
my chin looks funny"
and I hold up a bulb
in hopes of showing them
how big my heart is
at that moment.
I wish I could
wrap up this time
like the gift that it is,
as my children lay
with their heads
resting upon
the skirt of the tree.
I watch the glow of the lights,
dancing across their smiles...
I watch the warmth of this night
shinning in their eyes
My world feels right
as their angel sits atop the tree,
and my angels lie beneath it.
and my angels lie beneath it.
-Reide 06’
