It's quiet

It’s quiet, not even the house dares make a noise.
Thoughts of what tomorrow may bring are linking together forming a daisy chain around the hearts of children and big children like me.
I may have grown into grown up skin but my heart still beats the magic of Christmas tonight.
My magic is not the present giving or food masticating washed down with a clinked glass of bubbly.

The magic is here we still stand.
All that has happened on our blue opal and we have been spared.
No waters took my home today.
No feisty tectonic plates gulped down the street today.
No war cut the artery of our lives and poured out our hope.
No fires culled the earth to dry black dust.
No bank padlocked the doors and took the key.
No ills soaked into our veins and crumpled our health.

The magic of being here is the magic that is good enough, requires no wrapping and no card.
It’s quiet but the noise of thankfulness is the joyful song that celebrates in silent, a salute to the heroes and heroines who are in trenches still.
Read these words to join a thought or two and we shall make a daisy chain around those who stand on less now.

Bless you for you have opened your eyes. x

© K S Hardy 2011

It's quiet

Arcadia Tempest

Joined November 2008

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