Stopping by with the handwritten card
that I dream to leave beside your door
with a fragrant little bundle of rosemary, eucalyptus and pine
wrapped in barn red raffia
and maybe some good chocolate and a small tin of tea.
I’d have smiled affectionate as I penned your name
on envelope, giddy that I got to even know you at all.

Love and merriness, it would say,
with big hope that these coming days find you replenished
and refreshed
in all the ways.
And I’d wrap each one in prayer
that the hard, dry shells of tough times
and circumstances
would yield soft to newborn green breaking through
like the strange crackling tenderness of the amaryllis bulbs
drawing my eyes daily to the table
where sunshine coaxes beauty from the dark.

(It’s terrible and wonderful how pain
can stir our roots to deep diving
into new pages
that waited
buried in the breaking
all along.)

Then I’d climb down off your porch,
headed home to rest,
and quickly turn around
to blow a kiss
as I head back to my own place.
Because your spirit is an essence
that turns my heart to look again,
as if a light is sparkling merry through the dark.
Even when I don’t come around here as often
or see you over there doing the wonders that you do,
I feel you and am richer for the sensing.

I remember the you in your places
and I hold that close with love and joy.

A tender merry Christmas and beautiful holiday,
dear one.
May you release like papers to the fire
the heaviness of these long, worn months

“The stars nodded,
The ocean agreed,
The flowers chorused,
Bloom now – bloom free!

Rise,  again.”

– Tess Guinery

(And congrats to Lisa Moreland – I drew your name!
Shoot me your snail mail address and I’ll send a copy of my visual hug
to you asap! )