First Christmas
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First Christmas
It can't possibly be
Christmas
without her being here.
Yet the world is singing round me,
joyful tidings and good cheer.
Though I try to put on
armor
and brave the sights and sounds,
a few moments worth of shopping,
and the tears are spilling down.
I pray for strength to do
it,
find a path through holidays,
look for shortcuts, good ideas,
some directions through the maze.
Then I find at last the
answer:
I'll include her symbolically.
And the giving becomes perfect;
her love's flowing down, through me.
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