The Gift We Carry, a poem by Christina Stewart at Spillwords.com

The Gift We Carry

The Gift We Carry

written by: Christina Stewart

 

Frost bites our ears,
our noses pink, cheeks bright with cold,
while streetlights flare in wet darkness,
puddles catch the sky’s scattered stars like shattered glass.

We carry stories in our pockets,
letters never sent,
half-remembered songs,
the laughter of children we cannot reach.

Inside, lights flicker unevenly,
candles shiver in jars,
hands stretch across tables,
messy, imperfect, alive with the weight of love.

Some chairs sit empty,
some voices are distant,
absence hums in our chests
like a bell vibrating through the walls.

And still,
we notice the quiet miracles:
breath clouding the winter air,
the heat of a shared mug,
a hand brushing another,
a song sung off-key but full-hearted.

Tonight, we carry more than gifts.
We carry presence,
we carry each other,
and for a heartbeat,
in the hush between snowflakes,
Christmas bursts quietly into the room.

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