How sad it is
when all the ornaments are ungowned
and the decorations that once abound
are boxed lights and tree taken down.
Suddenly a quiet comes
after everything is put away and done,
an emptiness slips in and to rest life succumbs.
All the carols sung are stilled
and a silence remains unfulfilled,
empty spaces lay where packages were filled.
Another year is on the horizon
ending the old less enterprising
open to what may be more energizing.
In the background easily forgotten
packing up the bows and cotton
is found a remaining filled stocking
with treasures and dreams still knocking.
Hold tight to the joy and laughter of the season
no one knows what futures life is kneading
and as the season comes to its deletion
the spirit lives just around the wonder in believing.
Categories:
ungowned, christmas, new year, seasons,
Form: Rhyme