Remembered Magic
As the day lengthens into night and we tuck little believers into bed, we see past holiday memories in our head.
Laying out the presents with tinsel and wrap, and cookies and milk as if setting a trap.
We once believed as the ones upstairs dreaming, like magic the gifts would appear for the wishing.
Now we have grown and cease to believe, for the veil was lifted and we felt deceived.
As night goes on and the work has been done, for now we are he the gifter, the one.
We close our eyes as weary as he, to dream for time like thee.
The morning comes soon, too quickly it seems, because little ones wish to see what's in dreams.
It is then as the wrapping is ripped and special wishes made real, that we catch some of that which we did feel
In our youth it was when we once believed, then again when we see little eye all a gleam.
That magic is not lost but passed on to the next, to keep something real that used to perplex.
For Santa is real because we make him so, not just for them but we also.
As we lay our heads down after the long day I hope we do hear, the pause on our roof of eight tiny reindeer.
And in our sleep we will hear the call, Dash away! Dash away! Dash away all! - Poem by Bill Edwardson
