I remember nights that seemed only for me.
Everything still, silent…time fixed.
I sat by shore, lost in its wake.
Watched as mossy moorings danced in captivate.
The moonlight stretched my little port, reaching for tomorrow,
maybe running from yesterday.
A lull of loneliness, like a blanket.
Protects me from exposure.
Suspended in salty bliss,
I bid good morn to the sun.
Wintery winds howl,
calling a bluff.
The sky’s story turns dark,
when only halfway.
Each of my breaths,
more and more breath.
They followed in dance,
but leave me too.
To chase drifts that whistle,
and those raw gales…
God, to the bone.
The forest taunts,
I hear the scratching.
Slowing motion, I’m straight into fear,
hopeless and alone.
I beg the moon a bond.
“We are better throughout the year for having, in spirit, become a child again at Christmastime.” ―Laura Ingalls Wilder
*Take a look at our Christmas Village from a few years ago. The video was taken with an early smartphone. At the time, I was just fooling around really, but in retrospect, I’m glad I captured it. Because each and every time I watch it, I can’t help but smile.
Release the inner child people, enjoy!!!