'Tis the season, right? It's the most unusually warm Christmas in Denver. 50s, sunny, no snow. I rode 30 miles this morning and mostly saw people out walking their dogs. Actually, I saw two gentlemen out jogging in jeans and leather jackets. ?
But I thought as a nice reminder of what the holiday season/life is truly about (since most people I know are crazy busy with shopping and cooking and spending money), I found another e.e. cummings poem to celebrate the small, beautiful, (and sometimes tragically fleeting) magical moments in life.
Poem 33:
christ but they're few
all(beyond win
or lose)good true
beautiful things
god how he sings
the robin(who
'll be silent in
a moon or two)
So Merry Christmas, all. Listen to the birds sing. Treasure your special moments.
Rain on its way here tomorrow, then highs in the low 40s and high 30s. Then it will move east and find you, too! Enjoy the warm while you can. And yes, they are too few, those beautiful things, and yet for all too many, so easy to forget. Every moment is (still) sweet.
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