and still,
                                                                 theway a
                                                                night like this
                                                               should be. All have
                                                            retired, they surely look
                                                            edtiredand worn. They’ll
                                                           be better in the morning, they
                                                        have earned their rest.   They did
                                                            their best. I’d be resting too, but
                                                                it’s just that I’ve still too much to do.
                                                 There’s   that list; a new quick check for updates,
                                                reprievesfrom me in a stretch.   A call to the stable,
          assuring                           this latest chapter of the fable goes off without a hitch.
       The       suit                       is pressed. The boots shine next to the white fur, setting
     the   brig       ht                    crimson ablaze;a staple for the Holidays. Am I crazy, or has
      De   cember  co                 me more rapid than eagles? It feels like it to me. Time flies
      wh   en I’m hav ing     fun.        I scanunder the tree with a twinkled eye, spying the
   presents displayed. Every          brightly wrapped package becomes the bestprize, never
    taking away from the next, at        best joining each box in wonder and richness. But,
   there is one gift that draws my attention. Did I ever mention my total love of Christmas?  It
     is in that spirit that I take up this Gift so incons       picuous, yet soutterly necessary   for
     this day. For in my hands, I hold perfection. At    closer inspection, I am certain. No giftof 
Christmas was ever so right; so accepted. So loved.   Remembering the verse, “…and the
greatest of these, is Love”, my heart swells, a telling    sign that Christmas lives within me.
 This                            Gift      so needed, fills my hands with its girth,and makes my heart
    wor                        thy                through all that it espouses. It houses purity, and sanct-
         ity.                It                       represents love. The Truest of All Love. And so it is
             with      this                   First Gift of Christmas.              I bow my head; a silent
                 prayer                         prepares me for my jour           ney. “God so       loved
              the       wor                      ld that he gave his only            son…”              and
          I ret             urn           The Babe to His manger, the love of Christmas fills me. I raise
       from                     my      knee, coming to stand near the tree. I am Santa Claus, chosen to be an icon of the season. I am humbled to receive “The Gift” I represent Who gives it a reason.          Walking in silence and reverent thought, to a waiting sleigh and a day of love.

9 thoughts on “THE GIFT

  1. Oh. Oh my goodness.This is beautiful. Thanks so much for this, Walt! This poem portrays so beautifully that, though Santa is indeed a jolly part of Christmas, he is not "the reason for the season."You are a poet of words, as well as pictures.

  2. Walt, this is truly amazing. When do we get to see these all in a book?'…chosen to be an icon of the season…' – Love this.With your gift, you could easily create poems in images that would appeal to children. You should really consider doing a PB book in this form. We need more platforms with which to introduce poetry to our children.

  3. Shauna, I SO agree with you. We DO need more platforms with which to introduce poetry to our children, and I DO want to see his I am Santa collection in a beautifully illustrated book.

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