"It's Christmas,"
she says
and stands next to the old man,
her young face glowing next to his.
"It's Christmas,"
he repeats,
the old man
with the old face,
covered in wrinkles
and painted by life.
Not far away,
a baby laughs
and the sound echoes through the alleys
like music,
leaving a trail behind,
a trail of joy, of happiness.
Somewhere in the distance,
children play,
young boys and girls,
all of them friends,
they stomp through the snow
and joke
and smile
and pull their sleigh up a hill.
Nearby,
a choir of singers fills
the air with delightful sounds.
They gift the ears
of each passerby
with notes he'll carry
all the way home.
Home,
where the delicious roast awaits,
where candles illuminate the night,
where the lights shine for the bet,
where sons and daughters laugh and share.
A place where tradition lives,
where memories are born,
they're written on papers,
in beautiful letters,
the paper can fade,
but never be torn.
A snowflake
trips over a cloud
and falls from the dreamers' sky,
it stumbles and flies,
at times it will rise,
but no matter the effort,
it'll be forced to rest.
It passes the people,
the men and the women,
it passes a cat, that looks at the moon,
it passes the covers
of beautiful souls,
serene,
in this night, dedicated to peace.
And above it all,
like queens in their fortress,
the stars twinkle between the clouds.
They watch over children,
calm their parents,
show stray animals their path through the dark.
They capture the spirit
of a night in which
every dream
can be fulfilled.
She turns to the old man next to her
and lights a cigarette for him,
and as she passes it, she claims:
"The most wonderful time of the year."
The old man accepts the cigarette.
He takes a puff,
looks up at the sky,
"Indeed.
The most wonderful time of the year."
~~~~~~~~~~
I wish each and everyone a very merry Christmas!
I hope you are all happy and healthy and enjoying these magical days with your loved ones!
And, of course, to those who don't celebrate - you too, have a lovely winter time!
YOU ARE READING
Luminous {A poetry collection} - Canvas of Words
Poesía"Sometimes the eyes need to close for the mind to open up."
