December Sadness

I walk away and I think a little bit,

I think about the horrid

State of affairs in the world and 

How I cry and pray

How I try to hold

Whatever my constellation is

Together 

I find myself in this strange, urgent prayer,

And not necessarily suddenly, but 

All of a sudden something else 

Joins that supplicating reverie, 

And becomes

As alive as all the other transcendent pleas: 

Walk through my door.

Say hello, say goodbye, I really

Don't care; just

Walk through my door.

The dark grows longer 

Even as the light begs

Embracing. 

I struggle as best I can, but 

The closer I get to mortality,

The more I feel the 

Longing setting in.

Tomorrow I'll fume about

The dogs, the slick roads 

Really reasonable and stressful things,

Knowing somehow 

I'm hijacked.