This was penned first of all in December 2020. Now re-worked in 2024. It is dedicated to my friends who are missing their loved ones, whose pain cannot pause because it is parties and presents. Whose precious ones, whether very young or much older, will always be gone too soon.
This Christmas time it may be
that this simple thing
is someone else’s
missing everything
The early morning
torn wrapping
late lunch
homemade punch
A warm home
one another
food to share
time together
For some
their loved ones' gone
hearts alone
a silent home
So while the potatoes burn
and gravy's lumpy
let eyes roll
but hearts be happy
Those infant fingers round a mothers' thumb
the start of all Christmas' to come
our simple thing, when gone
becomes our missing everything
So look to the tiny moment
any gift from heaven
any light at all -
cherish them
This Christmas time it may be
that this simple thing
is someone else’s,
missing everything