christmas eve

if at first it feels like loneliness
and missing my family
then on further inspection
it's the feeling of wanting to
give something, and compassion:
who is suffering tonight?
and the feeling
of how much my past means to
me

while emptiness dances with tradition
and non-attachment with memory

i fold laundry, send texts
and brush the cat
talk on skype to my sister in new zealand
where christmas has already come
in the middle of summer holidays

i'm waiting to feel that familiar feeling
and
all i want is to let go

yet when doris writes in susan's letter to
kris kringle,
"i believe in you, too"
i start crying
for something that hurts so sweetly
as Christmas