darkness...is light, and so, this eve of Christmas, I lit a lamp and sat outside with it. I sipped coffee, and watched the stars...for any sign of Jesus Christ, or Santa Claus.
I admit, I am a child, deep inside. I still believe. To keep from growing sad, I hope. I found an old time Christmas show, on my, old days, radio...'A Christmas Carol', Scrooge, Marley, the ghosts...and all the rest.
The birds nest round me, in their warm black feathers. They chat about my lamp shining in the night. It makes them feel warmer, and I wish them well, as together...we wait, with faith, upon the morrow.
We are the better, for the spirit of our company. Goodnight, dear children...goodwill to all. Merry Christmas...tomorrow!
Sweet dreams, now.
Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico
Art: oil lamp, google pic
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