Christmas is packed away

The Magi arrive and Christmas is packed away in a shoebox:

fragile snowflakes lie alongside stars

and Mary protects her precious child

from the oversized woolly bee in a Santa hat.

The donkey is wrapped up tight in a paper towel

to avoid his head falling off again like last year and

the lid is balanced on top and all are still

as they are lifted high on a shelf to bide their time.

And I will go back to work and back to routine,

back to the busyness which threatens to squeeze out

the wonder and the possibility of miracles:

our creator born in human flesh.

The Magi arrive and kneel in awe as they perceive

hidden in the ordinary, wrapped up in the mundane

in a toddler child in a far-off town, a precious gift

of joy and hope for all people and all time.

And will my eyes stay open to discern

my God at work on earth throughout the year?

Will he break through the day-to-day routine

to bless me and delight me if I do?

Will I then gaze at him and treasure him

as did those visitors of yesteryear?

And can I nurture him, as Mary did,

that he might live and grow and work right here?

© Jo Kudlacik 6th Jan 2024