Christmas morning
slips in without a plan.
The light feels cooperative,
the air unpersuaded.
Warmth feels like an offering.
The tree stands there
unimpressed with our effort
and somehow that helps...
Ornaments catch the light's glow
as if to whisper
"Yes, this counts too."
The earth is doing its slow turn;
dark easing toward light.
No announcements.
No urgency.
Nothing needs adjusting today...
Not the mood,
Not the moment,
Not You.
If joy shows up,
wave it in.
If it does not,
leave the door cracked.
Either way,
the fire still knows how to burn.
The light still twinkles indiscriminately.
The quiet still hums.
Maybe This is Christmas:
Life taking a breath
and us remembering
how to take one too.