Come holidays, entertain the idea of perfection.
Serve it platters with tasty bits and give it your
comfy chair. Invite the reality of beauty; she brings
gift baskets with those tiny bottles of booze you never
think of buying for yourself and the kinds of jam you
love to sink your teeth into. Toast happiness, for he
too is a guest of honour, and he has rich friends:
mirth, merriment, wonder, surprise. And when
abundance, who caters these events for free, has fed
the hearts and bellies of all, seek out that love seat
in the corner beside the beeswax candelabra where the
quiet guest sits alone, saving a space for you. Put your
feet up, crack one more of those tiny bottles—no one
will care—and nestle deep into the open arms of peace.
© Elaine Stirling, 2011