[this poem is the result of a snow day and Christmas music. Like musicians, my standards for Christmas material are somewhat lower than non-seasonal material]
The waiting is the hardest part
but then again
it is the only part
or at least
the only part we’ve seen
We like to remind ourselves
that we already have
the thing we’re waiting for
and that this is somehow
a comfort helping with patience
It’s like someone
wrapped up a refrigerator box
then told us
how everything we’ve ever longed for
is in that box
describing the contents
in excruciating detail
And this box
has been wrapped and waiting
for two millennia
and we’re stuck
waiting for a day
undisclosed to us
when we get to unwrap it
So every year
we practice
our waiting and unwrapping
as we remember
when the gift
was first placed under the tree
1 comment:
Very, very Good! Very well said.
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