Santa, Awake 

By Rebecca Whitecotton 

5 a.m.
Santa awakes.
No hurry this day.
The stockings will wait
For teenagers
Who laugh until the wee hours,
Knowing that Santa will come
After they have closed their eyes,
No matter the time. 

Santa melts into her chair,
Washed in the silence of the morning,
Bathed in the glow of Christmas
Shining from the tree.
Coffee cup in hand,
She closes her eyes and breathes.
This day will be full of joy,
Brimming with gratitude,
Bursting with generosity.

In the soft light,
She is connected to All That Is.
And whole.
She connects
With the reason for the celebration.
Jesus touches her soul.
She weeps. 

The moment is fleeting.
Thoughts of stockings
And turkeys
And presents
Shuffle through,
Pushing Jesus aside.
But Christ remains,
Light shines
On Christmas Day. 

Breathes deep
And fills each stocking
With love.

© copyright Rebecca Whitecotton, 2019

Photo by Roberto Nickson on Unsplash.