Christmases Past


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Do you hear?. . . .


Lifetimes lived secreted
behind the woolly frames of memory.

We jog the frames
of Christmases past. . . .

Scents of

pine boughs and holly berries,
mince pies and cranberries.

Sounds of

apple crisp snow and
retorting icicles,
crackling fires and laughter.

And the sound of silence

as love stretches
through all dimensions
to encircle Thee and Me.

As real as tangible,
as the star beams
on the evergreen.

A promise. . . .given and kept.

Do you hear the angels?

4 responses to “Christmases Past”

  1. Lois, And there is much that resonates well with us. And when it doesn’t, we must choose what does. And the sifting and sorting is what we do to grow. I appreciate your comments.

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