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By galadrial Date: 2002 Dec 02 Comment on this Work [[2002.12.02.06.11.2761]] |
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I wake to the crystaline perfection of a deep velvet night sky far flung with stars that God must have hung while we slept easily--- a sky so lush and rich i swear i could feel the nap with my fingers if i just reached out. I hear you breathing slow and deep, see one small line near your eyes that i absently smooth with my fingertip, and smile softly as it vanishes beneath my touch. I get up, chiding myself for the pang--- silly yes---having found your arms and the abiding love that lives in them leaving them for even an instant--- But it is Christmas morn, and I want you to wake to smells and sights and sounds that you have never known. So I pad down in an old warm robe, heat the oven, proof the yeast for sticky buns, mulls the spices for cider and then turn to the tree you called "unfinished" after we hung the balls, and strung it with cranberries and popcorn but I stopped you from hanging the lights. I was Del in O. Henry's story, hugging the secret of illumination tight to my breast. I pause, listen for you--- yes...still even and soft... and find the boxes of candles, pure white and tiny holders to put on each bough. I smell the buns baking while I work faster and faster--- a quick glance at the paling sky that has chased the stars. An ice storm came and coated the world and then I light the candles with fierce concentration and only hear you when the last wick is lit. I look up to the loft and you are standing with eyes glowing down at me--- while our tree is a wonder in the dim morning light. Suddenly, I feel how shabby the robe--- know my cheek is spotted with flour and my hair unbrushed--- yet you hold out your hand say "Come to me love." And that quick I dash for the stairs like a giddy child who's best christmas wish has just been granted by the big elf himself. You end up with an armload of extra large sugar plum fairy, half laughing half crying all grateful to be held by you. You brush away the tears, smile into my heart, and show me the dawn rising in the valley mist a dense carpet to the ground. All is glittering peace and glow, and as I wrap myself in the steady beat of your heart I whisper "You are the Magi , my love--- You are the Magi. What has come before and what will be after means nothing--- for waking on the Ridge and sharing this day with you is the quiet meaning of magic and my every Christmas wish come true. Merry Christmas, beloved man. |