Season of Miracles

Season of Miracles

Introspection fills my mind

on my walk from woods to home this eve

of all the loved ones left behind

leaving me alone to grieve.

Stars appear slowly one by one.

I hunch my shoulders from the cold.

Another day has come and gone

as both the year and I grow old.

I turn left when I reach the road.

 Each step and pain from my bad back

adds substance to my darkening mood.

Are best of times over for me?

I limp up hill squinting and brood.

Just beyond this gently sloping hill

awaits warm hearth and my dear family

in a house which over looks a hill

and home town on the other side.

I pause as home comes into view

then look up at now countless stars,

breathe in a bracing breath or two

on a road for once devoid of cars.

Home and town are both adorned by light

greens, red, yellow even blue

battling the rising moon tonight

on a day which I had come to rue.

At once my thoughts desert the past

returning to the now to stay

where peace of mind returns

at last on this, the eve of Christmas day. 

© Stan Holliday.


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