My dear boy
In the grand
Scheme of things
Little things matter
Most
A gaze a
Wink a smile
A glimmer of
Something or someone
All the invisible
Things that once
Said or seen
Missed or misread
Go away poof
But the only
Thing that remains
Is what spawned
Them all this
Thing called love
And ‘Ti’s the
Season when there
Stands in the
Corner or window
A memory thing
Decorated with lights
And balls sometimes
Popcorn and cranberries
Or candles candy
And kitsch it
Sits quietly absent
Of fanfare given
To royalty surrounded
By baubles trinkets
Toys all surprising
I simply stare
Watching the lights
Dance and bounce
Me surrounded by
Loved ones both
Past and present
This the long
Awaited time of
The Christmas tree
Oh how I
Wish that we
All were more
Like snowflakes and
Leaves and flowers
Admired for their
Uniqueness and the
Joy that brings
But instead we’re
Human constantly forcing
Our round selves
Into square holes
If the world
Celebrated its roundness
Then it wouldn’t
Need square holes
Who made square
Holes anyway I’ll
Tell you a
Bunch of squares
One of the
Hardest things to
Do I’ve found
Is trying to
Embrace a cold
Heart they sting
When touched remain
An island swimming
In seas despair
Surrounded by the
Rusty husks of
Those that ventured
Too close and
Found themselves marooned
I’ve decided rather
To stay far
Off shore deciding
To protect my
Vessel rather than
Be seduced by
The promises of
The pirates treasure
It’s this special
Time of year
When the world
Regains its innocence
When stars sparkle
Brighter in colder
Skies when Heaven
Itself falls as
Light snow covering
Everything in white
Paradise when we’re
More interested in
Giving than receiving
This season where
Sounds and smells
Spark vivid memories
Of simpler times
And especially this
Year when again
The greatest gifts
Wrapped in coats
Scarves and mittens
Find their way
Into our arms
It’s Christmas time
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 