Christmas Lights

Please 

do not ask 

me what is to be seen 

beyond the tree. I stand watching. 

You look never really asking simply being 

lights shining, tears streaming down to the places 

of a longed-for gift. The moment of now. Present. 

Can these lights ever really stay were they meant 

so show the way past the past, sentimentality shaken. 

Awake for Jesus stands beyond the tree and dreamily looks and sees. 

The moment of light. Recognition past any ambition is the longed- for hope.

Streets attempt in their folly to gird the grid these lights are miniscule and hidden.

There is a space of light between the light we see. Is this not where we are meant to be 

simply for a 

moment 

from now, 

Forever- 

more.