Embers of Holiday Magic

Fading embers of December. In childhood's glow, the season burned bright,

a slow comet of wonder trailing silver light. Anticipation hummed like distant bells,

time stretched lazy under winter spells. Lights blinked secrets, songs wrapped us warm,

scents of pine and cinnamon performed a quiet miracle. The world held its breath,

paused just for us, defying death. Gifts appeared by slight of unseen

hands, Santa was real and magic had no demands. Then adulthood crept in,

soft as falling snow, and showed the price tags hiding in the glow.

We became the architects of joy, planners, payers, cooks,