Christmas on This Side of the Shinig Sea
I sit on this side of the shining sea, watching the wretched path of the resolute vultures, now roosting within spitting distance of the front door. A cycle of seasons has changed so much in this part of the world. A ride in the country exposes how little has been left pristine. Immune to wistful threats of death by arrow, seduced by man made waste, left in haste by the unconcerned masses, future generations of wild birds gone soft now runt and roost.
In other neighborhoods, silent nights are set aglow in rainbow lights, the innocent young embark on toy driven fantasy journeys, grown-ups who know love, cuddle in serene slumbers, and the lonely mourn those who've left too soon.
Morning brings the afterglow of Christmas rapture, the stories we told each other with love and laughter, light the way for new memories to grow.
Linda Joy Burke
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