I’ll come back to taking care of you, you’ll begin taking care of me.
TO BEGIN WITH
Hope your week has been sweet and the weekend even sweeter. I’m excited about getting a haircut before Christmas but as you know I’m easily pleased. Five days to go, everyone!
Below is a poem from nineteen Christmases ago. I’ve been pondering on what to share this week and I thought it would be something for everyone to think about
Sleep warm and don’t hurry toward the holidays.
CHRISTMAS COME
by Emon
This Christmas comes
and next year, too.
And hour upon hour
as sun sets on sunsets
the days turn into decades.
One Christmas –
not yet now perhaps
but on its way
I’ll see you again.
Be with you again.
I’ll come back to taking care of you
you’ll begin taking care of me.
(December 2001)
Raymund's Random Insights
The supply of love will never exceed the demand, but it should.
Aim for the moon. The worst that could happen is you’ll miss and end up tumbling to the stars.
We cannot take away the cold, not if it’s within ourselves.
Poem of the week
CHRISTMAS COLD
This Christmas comes
and next year, too.
And hour upon hour
as sun sets on sunsets
the days turn into decades.
One Christmas –
not yet now perhaps
but on its way
I’ll see you again.
Be with you again.
I’ll come back to taking care of you
you’ll begin taking care of me.
(December 2001)
Raymund's Random Insights
The supply of love will never exceed the demand, but it should.
Aim for the moon. The worst that could happen is you’ll miss and end up tumbling to the stars.
We cannot take away the cold, not if it’s within ourselves.
Poem of the week
CHRISTMAS COLD
by Emon
As the year
now comes close to its end
I pull my December blanket
a little tighter
and watch you
sleep on through the night.
Finally the wind has finished
piling up November leaves.
Everywhere the world is waiting
for Christmas day to come.
I do not think
it’ll disappoint us.
I believe. I do.
Turn not away from me, darling.
But if you do so,
do it in a lazy way
and slow.
Please let me sleep
a little more
beside you
inside you.
Recognize you.
When midnight starts singing,
come to me with smiles
of perfected love.
Quarrels in December?
Never. Please.
January to November comes up
every year.
But this Christmas comes only once.
Make the songs we sing
songs of love and praise
not of hate and sorrow.
Meanwhile this night will keep us warm
as our love for all things good
go on good and growing.
(December 2008)
As the year
now comes close to its end
I pull my December blanket
a little tighter
and watch you
sleep on through the night.
Finally the wind has finished
piling up November leaves.
Everywhere the world is waiting
for Christmas day to come.
I do not think
it’ll disappoint us.
I believe. I do.
Turn not away from me, darling.
But if you do so,
do it in a lazy way
and slow.
Please let me sleep
a little more
beside you
inside you.
Recognize you.
When midnight starts singing,
come to me with smiles
of perfected love.
Quarrels in December?
Never. Please.
January to November comes up
every year.
But this Christmas comes only once.
Make the songs we sing
songs of love and praise
not of hate and sorrow.
Meanwhile this night will keep us warm
as our love for all things good
go on good and growing.
(December 2008)
AND FINALLY
December is good. Cold comfort. Warmth of friends. It’s a time when children are especially active, and adults contemplate the year that passed.
There is a purity to December. A strange calmness. The New Year's coming gives us excuses for reassessing our lives and attempting to resolve old conflicts. Maybe the purity of December has more to do with warmth than the cold.
Thanks for stopping by - see you next week.
December is good. Cold comfort. Warmth of friends. It’s a time when children are especially active, and adults contemplate the year that passed.
There is a purity to December. A strange calmness. The New Year's coming gives us excuses for reassessing our lives and attempting to resolve old conflicts. Maybe the purity of December has more to do with warmth than the cold.
Thanks for stopping by - see you next week.
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