The Day After Christmas<\/p>\n
I awaken to the stuttered
\ncry of a crow strutting across
\nmy driveway, lecturing me
\non the fractured frost
\nof subfreezing temperatures.
\nAlmost rhythmic, isn\u2019t it,
\nhow people trip through our lives
\nyear after year like the nick
\nand lisp of the wind
\ntapping the pines?
\nChristmas is one of those times:
\nthere will always be
\nold friends who disappear\u2014
\ntheir stars fading from my life
\nlike the dry petals
\nof a dogwood in July.
\nAnd new friends who startle
\nme with generosity
\nand tenderness.
\nChristmas\u2014a divine exercise
\nin the ebb and flow
\nof love, the spiritual
\npractice of letting go.
\nA perfect opportunity
\nto seek the fruit of patience,
\nmastering the ability
\nto watch the water
\nmuddy itself, confident
\nthe sand will settle in time,
\nand the sun shall once again
\nreflect the open cup
\nof the sky.<\/p>\n
–Laura Stamps<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Day After Christmas I awaken to the stuttered cry of a crow strutting across my driveway, lecturing me on the fractured frost of subfreezing temperatures. Almost rhythmic, isn’t it, how people trip through our lives year after year like … Continue reading