shadows smudge on the wall
           beside me, gray on red
           as I look up, pensive,
           pen in hand to write.
how to right this over indulgence,
           too full of my own
           bloated worry?
I've buried my prayers, fed one
           saturated heart with cares
           not meant to be carried.
Fasting from the thoughts that also
           fill my brain seems a lifeline
           in this season where we're 
           drowning in too much.
I shut the door, shutter the blinds
           and feast on silence, making
           space in my waiting for the
           gift to arrive, though it tarry.
It occurs to me, that like
           the Christ child's birth,
           answers may look far
           different than I expect.
So I make room in the welcome
           dark, waiting for the light,
           which will surely dawn.
c. Jody Lee Collins, 2016

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