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 now come and gone
as both the year and I grow old.

I turn left when I reach the road
my staff resounds on asphalt street
on the final stretch to my abode,
a course I so often repeat.

Each step and pain from my old knee
adds substance to my darkening mood.
Are the best of times over for me?
I limp up hill squinting and brood.

Just beyond this gentle sloping hill
awaits warm hearth and my dear bride
in a home which over looks a rill
with hometown 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, reds, yellow even blue
battling rising moon this night
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.