Then He smiled at me

What shall I play for you?
I'm grateful that the lessons we most need to know
are taught to us in an artful living of our now.
This is a Christmas
on a bed,
with a pillow bounced off the wall,
unsuspected wrapped gifts,
bowls of food,
chairs backed with Santa hats,
adrenaline and jitters
and the word love a few times.

We learn not to think back,
not to read the transcript of our past
like a royal decree,
but to embrace and thank
as if all that has had to happen to appear this now
from the inchoate realm of its possibility,
was written in illegible ink,
so all we could do is roll up the parchment,
and hold onto it for a while
to remind us of the here, of the now;
God,
and not being able to piece a miracle together
despite its already complete.