I It’s Christmastime and here we are

Each alone and yet in shared space

We’re secret and shared, random, but gathered in

We watch as one sips wine or waves across the room

We see another pick stray hairs from a dear one’s shoulder

We wonder at their constance, what they love and hold dear

We think of late night trains and sunken lanes in darkness still

And we know we don’t stand alone.

II It’s Christmastime and here we are 

Sharing spaces, affirmations, discourse and shapes

We are the passion, the remembered yet unspoken lusts

We watch for unknown moments, desires and secrets, none quite the same

We see memories lost in eyes at once remembered, that may never have been

We wonder at friends, at skies rent with lightning, at moments of awe

We think of instruments whispering somewhere far away

Pound’s petals on a wet, black bough

III It’s Christmastime and here we are 

Beyond our walls, new connections, the spit and echoes of ancient stories

We are each others’ lost memories quick silver dulled

We watch and set the lenses straight for what we’ve found

We see beyond the blah blah getting in the way 

We wonder at common memories, yet yearn for what’s missing

We think can we embrace unseen shadows, and then we do

A whistle’s echo hovers, and flutters leaves on the branches

IV It’s Christmastime and here we are 

We tell our stories of connections, of being kind, of patience with fools

We’re the keepers of tales, of the how, the who, of what we love 

We hear of families, horses and hounds, kittens, goldfish, the books, the music, all the others 

We listen to sounding angers, loss, the chaos of joy, calamity’s descent

We catch each others’ sounds and see and we are present

We hear harmonies, coherence conjoined

And how we come together is mysterious and wonderful

And as you are mine I am yours, we are ours

We are companions all, in these our endless moments.

© Laurel Lindstrom 2025