The Warm Conspiracy
A poem.

The whole world softens in December,
lights strung against early darkness,
the air holds music,
voices lift together,
harmonizing badly, beautifully,
meaning every word
and
we become generous versions of ourselves,
searching for the perfect gift,
wrapping secrets in bright paper,
hiding them like treasure,
giddy with the power
to delight our favorite people,
and
everything glows from within,
windows, faces, hearts
lit by the same warm conspiracy
that says
…yes, tonight is different, tonight we believe in impossible things…
The sacred meets the silly,
gratitude mixes with laughter,
the miraculous and mundane
hold hands across the table,
and
we are children again, all of us,
waiting for magic,
making magic,
believing in abundance,
believing in surprises,
and
this is the spell December casts,
we remember how to wonder,
how to celebrate nothing
and everything at once,
…how to make the ordinary extraordinary…
The world outside can wait,
tonight we choose
the reckless, glorious belief
that love is reason enough
for celebration.
Thanks for reading!

Thank you, Andy. This is perfect.
So beautiful, Andy.