‘Make much of something small.

The pouring-out of tea,

a drying flower’s shadow on the wall

from last week’s bouquet.

A fact; it isn’t summer anymore.

Say that December sun

is pitiless, but crystalline

and strikes like a bell.

Say it plays colours like a glockenspiel.

It shows the dust as well,

the elemental sediment

your broom has missed,

and lights upon each grain of sugar spilled

upon the tablecloth, beside

pistachio shells, peel of a clementine.

Slippers and morning paper on the floor,

and wafts of heat from rumbling radiators,

can this be all?  No look – here comes the cat,

with one ear inside out.

Make much of something small.  — ‘Bounty’ by Robyn Sarah

I receive “The Writer’s Almanac” in my inbox each morning and today’s poem seemed so appropriate as so many enjoy the holidays of the season.  I wish you love and hope and laughter, really good hugs, friends and family to share in your delight (and the food – I heard a rumor that if you share it, the calories are also divided amongst all who partake).  I wish you time to marvel at the small moments that should never go unnoticed, for they hold truths far larger than we can imagine.  I hope you get some drool-y naps in there too, awakened by the sounds of quiet commiseration between loved ones.  And of course, I hope you receive all that you wish for, and wish for all that you have.