The Knowing

I sit and write with Christmas lights twinkling around me. The Christmas trees’s reflections in our picture window reach to the sky, giving the appearance of doubles on the embankment.

All is still, so I listen and wait. 

Tasks for today creep into mind.

Hopes for tomorrow aren’t far behind.

I love Christmas with its celebrations, nativity scenes, angels, snow people, and Santas.

Yet, a yearning for something more seeps from my heart through the black pen with gold trim. 

Perhaps a purpose yet to be revealed?

A plan yet to be fulfilled?

A dream for the future yet to come?

We writers are an odd lot. Words often clog, causing consternation.

Words connected to something more we can’t see but somehow know is there…

waiting for us

beckoning “come!”

enticing anticipation. 

So, we still, listen, and wait…

for the knowing.