Poems

Let people

In my culture, Christmas gifts are traditionally brought by baby Jesus (or "Ježíšek"), not by Santa. Here's my letter to baby Jesus from two years ago. Merry Christmas, everyone!

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Dear baby Jesus,

it's Lucie here,
wondering if you're well.
There are a few things
I'd ask you to weigh
before the holiday spell.

Please –

Give people love,
acceptance, and joy.
If they're lonely,
give them a hug.
Set fire to their souls
that helps them remember
their little child's voice
even when it gets dark.

Let people with wanderlust
wonder
and fly,
free like the eagle,
high up in Mars' sky
without the loneliness
of Mariner 9.

Let people know
that to err is human,
and no mistake means
that's all your life will ever be.
And let them love themselves
into being kinder
because no one ever became better
through a harsh critique.

If someone breaks,
let them have friends
to help find constellations in the pieces on the floor.
And let them live through the delightful surprise
that golden light lies in the cracks –
that's where life opens new doors.

I have a friend I haven't seen in a while,
but I talk to her each night
when the lights go down.
Please, can you check up on her –
make sure she's alright.
Forever winter, when she's not around.

Let people laugh.
And only let them cry
if they have someone
to kiss off their tears.
Let artists show
how emotions run wild over their scars
so that others know they also can heal.

There's just one thing
I wish for myself.
And I think it's a long time due.
Dear baby Jesus,
I'd like to breathe free
and learn that I'm people, too.

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Cover art of the chapter by

blueartpapelaria (https://pixabay.com/photos/christmas-lights-nature-theme-2547356/).