As daylight hours wane
The evening streams blue shadows
Across glittering, freshly-fallen snow
And I watch in reverent awe
As the scene outside my front window
Transforms into a mesmorizing spectacle
Of tiny colored lights scattered on the foothills
Against majestic snowcapped mountains.
I nestle in the warmth of a blanket
Peering up at a tree filled with baubles and bows
A decade of memories both bitter and sweet
Reminding me that life is to be savored.
There is a paradox to December:
That in the midst of the darkest weather
Colors, lights, festivities, and joy emerge;
Yet in this childlike bliss of the season
There are those who quietly grieve.