In the things that matter there is a hunger
It arrives, first, as desperation and fear
But like stages of grief it changes
Initially, it comes and is denied
Then raged at for its lack of presence
Finally, pleaded with to come soon
Then silence
Eventually the things that matter
Arise out of us to be fed
Not by another, but by our own heart
This is met with mild disbelief
Then curiosity
Finally, delicious amusement
Then silence
This also fits the anticipatory sequence that led up to my childhood Christmas mornings.
Of course today, I look at at this with delicious amusement. And silence. 🙂
The best thing about Christmas now, is I can feel all that anticipation without one gift under the tree. Now that’s something!