Morning grays the sky, a hangover
from the rain of night.
The carol "I Wonder As I Wander" sings
softly in my mind as I rise
to do the chores of morning.
I see water droplets adorning
all the limbs of a small tree,
the water becoming ornaments of celebration.
The cats take turns sleeping
'neath the Christmas tree.
The dogs return to snoring
after a return from the morning walk.
I think true Christmas is this way:
She comes gentle as a song.
He waits quietly to adorn your heart.
The Christmas Spirit yawns and stretches into the morning, into each ordinary day.
She comes riding on a donkey with tired anticipation.
He respectfully knocks on doors searching for a place to rest.
Some would say that Christmas day "is not just another day", and yet, it is.
Each ordinary day is sacred too.
Except for the shepherds who heard the angels, the first Christmas was subtle and ordinary.
The message sent is not about presents, but about being present to the gift of recognizing the holy and good
in each ordinary moment and that
God can
and will
work miracles
in each ordinary creature.
Comments