Sometimes I struggle
Like an infant pulling through
The amniotic cocoon
Gasping to breathe
What I haven’t before.
I struggle with the transience
In a complete lifetime,
The impermanence I find,
The great distillation of enormity
Into tiny moments
We may only inhabit once.
Our baby laughter
Echoes through the corridors
Of time no more.
Our babies’ laughter
Yields to silent hallways
And I am always aware
I’m tender here
Ever in wonder
The millions of tiny births and deaths
In a single lifespan.
A mess of oatmeal, a scavenger hunt
For scarves and gloves,
And tumbles into the great outdoors
My eager loves
Tromp and slip, they
Roll and pat and pack fresh snow
Into brand news friends
And when they go
I heat a pot of chocolate hot,
And whip together oven rolls
So when they pile inside again
I can warm their tiny souls.
He’s in his truck while they lay sleeping,
Hard at work before the sunrise
Hammering out the tools he needs
To build their Christmas joys.
By the time he gets back home,
We’ll have tucked the sun back into bed
Then we’ll eat and laugh and love each other
Before laying down our heads.
I get up in hazy mornings,
Blend my flour and my eggs
Whisking together my ingredients
To bake their fragrant memories,
Now the hours go by harder
But the joys grow deeper by the mile
I’m storing away the things we’ll need
To build their Christmas smiles.
We’re working Christmas to the bone this year
Because the best things in life deserve it,
And the love and joy and peace we feel-
Well, all of those were free.
We’re eager for the wide-eyed wonder,
The northern lights inside their eyes,
And for the moment we recline together
To watch them dance in their surprise.
And I think about our Savior,
Coming down from His delights
To work amongst the splinters,
The stubble and the wheat,
He worked Christmas to the bone each year
Building us a mystery
And I, in wide-eyed wonder,
Dance in all I see.