and there’s the presents <br />which we don’t talk of <br />which we secretly wish <br />for ourselves; wondering <br />whom we might ask for them; <br /> <br />or whether they were already ours, <br />bestowed by fairy godmother <br />there beside the cradle; in which case, <br />where did we hide them <br />from ourselves? .. <br /> <br />to wake each morning, <br />not to depression and the lack <br />of any sense of personal self-worth.. <br /> <br />but to praise and gratitude and joy… <br /> <br />unwrapping the world, <br />loosing its knotted golden cords, <br />easing its sticky tape, <br />folding the paper neatly into memory, <br />discarding all the packing which defends… <br /> <br />or must we posit a god so just and merciful <br />that time to him or her or it, is but an experiment <br />to give us time and freewill, to remember <br />where we hid those presents from ourselves?<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-presents-on-the-gift-list-yet-unread/
