I'm having a hard time getting ready for Christmas this year. Most of the time it feels as thought I am running in the opposite direction. I'm going to take a stab at it this morning by putting up the Christmas Village with my daughter.
In the meantime, here is one of my favorite seasonal poems.
by e.e. cummings
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower
who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
see i will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly
i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don't be afraid
look the spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,
put up your little arms
and i'll give them all to you to hold
every finger shall have its ring
and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy
then when you're quite dressed
you'll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they'll stare!
oh but you'll be very proud
and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we'll dance and sing
It's a start. If you look closely you will see that tiny characters from the Dr. Who universe appear to be infiltrating our holiday scene...Hmm...
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