My Near Death Experience Arts and Thoughts

Christmas came wrapped in sugar and steam—

my mother’s hands never resting,

candies cooling on every surface,

cookies stacked like promises,

oyster loaf breathing salt and comfort,

gumbo holding the house together.

My father knelt at the tree,

coaxing life into a circle of rails,

a train forever traveling home,

lights blinking in patient rhythm,

its hum stitching the room to peace.

Those were holy hours—

before time learned how to hurry,

before loss knew our names.

Such a beautiful time,

when love asked nothing more

than to be lived.