Black Christmas

I look up at the stars,

I listen to the silence.

I gaze at the distance lights,

I love the quiet…

I am grateful,

I made it this far.

Another year comes to an end. 
"Things have not been easy this year,"-- 
about a year at its end, 
someone will always feel so. 

I think of the things I lost 
from the start of the year, 
and of the things I gained. 
I think of the things I learned 
along and throughout the year, 
and of the things I grew from. 
I think of the times I failed, 
and of the choices I made. 
I think of all I am, 
all that remains of me 
at the year's end. 
I am grateful, 
I made it this far. 

I listen to the stars at night-- 
it is Christmas. 
It is a cold and sad night, 
this Christmas. 
It is a black Christmas. 
I think of how this day 
once meant something. 
I remember, 
when we were younger, 
so much life and excitement, 
so much love and joy 
came with the season. 
We came together 
as a family, then, 
as friends, 
a community. 
Now, I look up and think: 
so much time has passed, 
so much has changed 
this year alone. 
Death yet walks 
and rules our streets 
in many scary faces. 
Some of our loved ones 
have left us, 
and others 
have been taken from us. 

I look up at the stars, 
I listen to the silence. 
I gaze at the distance lights, 
I love the quiet. 
I think: 
are there others 
out there, somewhere 
who feel some longing 
and some sadness, 
some lacking, 
and some emptiness 
this season? 

©BenieLangat. 

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I wrote this for December 25, 2021.

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Photo by hay photograp from Pexels