I don’t know where you are
but I certainly can’t seem to
I’ve exhumed the ornaments and lights.
I thought for certain you’d be there–
nestled between pieces of the crèche
playing hide and seek with the Nutcrackers.
But you weren’t.
I thought if I turned on some tunes–
even the mellow ones–
I’d hear you swooning.
Your voice beckoning me
to sway to tidings of great joy.
Instead I discovered the Cheetah Girls
have a Christmas Album.
I thought maybe just maybe
I’d find you about town
in the crowds of bustling people
maybe you’d be making merry
and some of that would rub off on me.
I found lots of the latest and greatest
gadgets and gizmos
But didn’t feel a single touch from you.
I think sometimes I confuse you
with the Holy Spirit.
I assume you’re the same,
and to be faithful means to feel
This year I release my need for the holiday spirit
and have found
an empty dwelling that yearns
for the Holy.