Photo by Olivia D Bryant
I survey a room awash with strangers, each one lost
In seasonal merriment, assured of my anonymity.
What madness to have crashed a Christmas gathering!
Unclear of intent but certain of need to expel my loneliness,
I sip slowly at my glass of cider, noting how the ricochet of
Laughter is skewed when it fuses with the chime of the harp.
Your appearance center-stage of my sights is sudden,
And I almost choke on the elixir of unlikely possibilities.
It has been said that miracles do happen; the thought
Scatters through my mind inciting the most fanciful hope.
I am standing in the midst of a vortex of one-thousand
Words that should be offered at this exacting moment.
Yet I find myself in a paralytic state of tongue, where
Nary a sound tenders the paramount joy inside me.
The only logical move for me to make is to shift myself
On unsteady legs three steps forward and to the right
So that the gentle warming wave of the hearth masks my
Bewilderment, and the mistletoe above answers for me.
Copyright 2014 Tina Jordan, All Rights Reserved ~ Red Veil