On Christmas Morning

My eyes pop open in the darkness of pre-dawn,

a primal timer set in my brain,

one that began in my childhood,

or perhaps in my genes.

Even after all these years there is a magic to Christmas morning,

the air crackles with it

and I feel the ripples in time open to me

as Christmas mornings past flash by,

bringing tears and laughter and remembrance.

I quietly steal downstairs in the expectant quiet,

drawn like a magnet to the lights of the tree.

There are no toys under its fragrant boughs,

the stockings hung by the fire are empty,

but the Christmas Spirit is still here,

the wonder that I felt all those years ago takes hold once again,

the magic of Christmas alive and well,

and I am a child once again.

Merry Christmas!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s