When that light in the east returned this morning—
I knew it would be there even if I didn’t see—
it ignited my world in such a comforting glow.
It always reminded me of the hugs shared
while we slept. And when I left my bed,
it was not to run for the crass camouflaged
Christmas commerce beneath the sparkling tree,
but to greet this new light as it dressed today
in its accent of what feels a long ago spring.
Outside, the firs stood at lazy attention
in uniforms of green, but it was the young maple
caught my eye, gangly and excited as a child
bursting with a secret it would share only with you.
The few leaves it had left hung attached to the ends
of spindly limbs, as if pinned to its wrists by Mother.
As it heard your voice upon that illuminating breeze,
it waved a greeting only a few would understand,
and I hugged the light in the east to myself,
warm, one more day.
Merry Christmas, from me to you!