Everyone received a gift. On the way
Home from the hospital, you left yours
On the bus. Or handed it to a stranger,
While you buttoned your coat.
When you looked up, it was gone.
Or perhaps they watched after it for you.
"We'll give it to you when you're ready."
But though you waited, are still waiting,
You've received nothing. Perhaps
The absence of the gift is the actual gift.
Perhaps no one else received a gift.
But you can see by their smiles and tears,
By the lyric lift in their faces,
By the absence in your own.
You can see what you do not have.
Always to be seeking, a step out of time,
There must be something, you say,
Something all others don't seek.
Is this your gift?