It’s Too Quiet

Hope you all had a good journey through the Christmas Season. I enjoy that in my tradition we are still celebrating it until Epiphany when the Wise Men make their visit.  This poem came from some not too deep but still profound reflections on this Christmas time with family.

It’s too Quiet

 

The chaos and mess

blessed our grand souls.

Toys and tots underfoot,

the running and jumping of feet,

voices resonating off our high ceilings.

Then Christmas morn holding off the

two would be marauders

until Uncle Mattie and Aunt  Aakansha arrived.

Then paper and bangs and beeps every where

with “Joy to the World” blaring in the background.

Afterwords with boys finally down for naps

adults collapsed on every surface

comatose for two hours.

Then the smells of our eclectic meal

of roast chicken and tofu stir fry,

Indian curried vegetables and baked sweet potatoes .

And the days after Christmas

marched too rapidly towards their departure

and then arrived.

As we walked back into the house

after the hurricane of their departure

we said, “It’s too quiet.”

And our hearts missed them and our daughter already.

I wondered if I would ever forget the theme songs

of Thomas or Paw Patrol,

Dora or Word Girl

or Rescue Bots.

I miss those voices calling for:

Cheese and candy

Apples and candy

Juice and candy.

The chorus of “mine” and “he did.”

Those incessant shouts of

“Grandma” or Grandpa.”

Those fresh from the bath bodies

squirming under towels.

Those cheeks waiting for

a  goodnight kiss.

 

Diantha Zschoche 1/14

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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