Maybe it’s the concept that they can take you anywhere?
Maybe it’s the concept of traveling through life?
Roads with their perfect imperfections allure.
Unchanging they have the power to unfold.
Repeatedly.

Maybe it’s the knowledge that you can go forward?
Maybe it’s the knowledge that life can be wayfaring?
Roads with their twists, turns, potholes, and scenic overlooks.
Dedicated they have the power to carry.
Everlastingly.

Maybe it’s the feeling of security that you desire?
Maybe it’s the familiarity that you crave?
Roads with new meaning and individual anticipation.
Unique they give you power to move forward.
Unceasingly.

{Until you decide to stop, shift gears, stretch legs, or take another road completely.}

In the morning
I am leaving
Going back home
The time spent here
Tumultuous
And Taxing
For now, I don’t know when
I’ll return
The cold of the winter
The cracking of skin and hearts
In the morning
I am leaving
Going back to me

Last night I packed up the Christmas tree.

I thought about leaving the mantel decorated, but I packed that up too.

I thought I’d regret it, but I didn’t.

Last night I packed up Christmas; I put everything neatly away in bins and boxes.

I thought it would look empty in here, but it doesn’t.

I thought I’d feel sad about it, but I wasn’t.

Because Christmas isn’t in the decorations, or the lights, or the gifts–

If Christmas is in your heart, you will have it any time you wish.

May the spirit of the season shine within you always, equally in June as in December.