This is my now-traditional "Christmas card in a poem", for all of you. Blessings of the season, whatever it should chance to mean for you - even if it's just four days off work in a row and a Call the Midwife marathon on the teev. (Actually, that sounds kind of blissful...)
Three things they said the astrologers brought:
Riches, for dominion; spiced perfume, for transcendence;
burial oil, to foreshadow the ending.
Three things, now, to ask of the season:
Lovingkindness, for the sad and weakened; restfulness, for the weary and heavy-laden;
Abundance, flowing freely, for all at the table.
The future forestalls; a moment of forgetting, dressed in silver bells.
- Kathy, 24/12/16
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