Christmas Morning
Up late last night, dragging this morning,
getting so busy doing the big holiday stuff,
in danger of thinking I have done enough,
off the hook, giving the divine a warning.
Yet, it really is all a gift, given not by me,
but by one breathing into this earth lump,
from before I was given as gift of plump
child to parents who deigned let love be.
Letting love be, to grow as it'll blossom,
in freedom of will; in hope I'll give freely,
before I'm asked; in Thanksgiving ideally,
for being aware that God's plan is awesome.
Now, in midst of presents, wrapping paper,
ribbons; I know love's been a mold shaper.
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