What are these gifts we give?
They are sentiments, love,
and little bits of warmth
against the touch
of Winter’s Cowl,
pulled tight,
against Her wind.
“Shroud us again!”
We entreat the dead,
ancient, and gone,
to wrap their warmth
around our shivering shoulders,
to hear our whimpers,
“Protect us! We need you!”
The elder wolves are howling.
Light the tree.
A thousand candles,
reflected ‘gainst
these many
mirrored baubles.
They are the eyes of the elders
watching the door rattle
as the wolves are pawing.
Untie the bows,
and tear away the papers.
These treasures
are not mere gifts,
toys, or playthings,
but protective talismans
from our eldest
blood-kin shamans.
© 2019.
Love the turn that happens at the italicized line about the wolves.
Thanks! I love that device. It’s so abrupt and I imagine it to be a little jarring sometimes.