Christmas and bus-stops

Christmas and bus-stops

its that time of the year.
when kids love to be at the fair
when santa comes on his reindeers,
bringings gifts to share
and everyone generally brings good cheer..
its the only time fairies and trolls, play with goblins and elves..
its around the end of the year
we’re all glad we made it, and were here…
Even the hospitals are adorned in bright gear..
movies showing how jesus died everywhere on air.
its a hard reality that everything that starts has to end..
in truth, what really ends?
life ends at death, yet theres a heaven, or hell
and even for the atheists and agnostics, it doesnt end there..
the bodies after death decompose into soil, forming manure, and becoming earth..
giving life to new plants, perhaps trees, maybe herbs..
and those grow, and the cycle never gets spent..
everything is a continuum, every stop a stepping stone-a busstop.
no one ends at a busstop..
we get down , or mount a bus at the stop..
its a place of transience, a pause..
christmas is a period, a time to fuss..
but we get there every year, and then move on to the next course..
As i stroll along, and notice a bus stop..
i realize that soon the new year will be here, and thus begins a new course..
i only wish every stop could have christmas’ sport..
the happiness, the gifts and all the love..
and why not, afterall, life as we know it is quite short


About slickjay

a writer of sorts, a poet and some...
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