Overcast skies.
Another Christmas has come and gone
Another program has warmed the hearts of proud parents and friends.
The church building is cold and empty today as I come early, alone,
To clear the stage.

I sip lukewarm coffee from a styrofoam cup and listen to a melody of quiet tunes while patiently unwinding lights from now dead cedar trees.
The artificial snow that covers the set has yet to melt.
Hoisting a ladder awkwardly alone, I ascend high to remove the dangling plastic snowflakes and crumpled tin foil stars that remained suspended in their decent.

Glitter and tree needles and stubble of hay litters the worn carpet.
Little by little, I try to put things back the way they once were.
And with a thousand swipes of a well used vacuum cleaner, the clear sparkle of
reluctant particles of glitter cling to the carpet shining back up at me.
Oh…what will it hurt for a few reminders to linger at my feet?

The silence of this old church building is deafening.
The task for this day is done.
My hand grips the styrofoam cup as I swallow what is left of now cold coffee.
As I turn off the lights and survey my work, a thousand images flood my mind.
I’ve tried my best to ‘put things back the way they were’.
And I am haunted by the nagging doubt that this can ever truly be accomplished.
Yet what else is there to do, but try?

As I make a final walk by, I can close my eyes…and remember.
It all comes back to me…the music…the drama…the moment.
And even in the quiet darkness, particles of glitter still shine up at me.
There’s nothing wrong with a few of those pleasant reminders.
No, Nothing at all

<small>[ January 01, 2004, 05:58 PM: Message edited by: lighthouse ]</small>

Lighthouse,

There is nothing quite like someone describing what might otherwise be a pretty common experience in such a way that speaks volumes of what they are feeling at the time. I am drawn in.. wondering what happens next.

Perhaps I am reading into it but it is nice to feel so much while reading something like this. It is like a good book that you can barely wait to get back to. I guess that is what I mean by being drawn in.

I love to read, and sometimes post quotes from books I am reading. Things that somehow describe what I feel in ways that I am not skilled enough to convey. I find these things and read them over again several times..realizing they say so much of what is true for me. What is in my heart.

That is what happens when I read these thoughts you have written. I have read other things you've written in the past and each time am left with the same feeling.Your writing is beautiful.

thanks,

dawnn

<small>[ January 06, 2004, 08:11 PM: Message edited by: Dawnn ]</small>

....thanks....

I'll refrain from being flattered.

Hard to say how words like that flow. I've always heard that writers often pen their greatest works when in deepest pain or adversity.

Sometimes...writing just helps ease some of that pain I suppose. I'm no writing expert...so I really can't say.

Glad you got something out of it.