Just something simple, for the holiday. It's been a while since I wrote anything to publish on here. Please read and review. It's open ended for a reason, meant to draw the reader to imagine and wonder. It's not much, but I hope you'll enjoy it.

Waiting To Begin

Soft, gentle fingers patter against skin like grains of sand

Falling to the floor of a sparkling ocean:

Steadily, steadily, like little spots of glitter.

She feels the fingers, warm and comforting,

Watching the dust motes above her head,

Waiting for something.

For what?

Snow falls outside

Like the particles of sand in her Californian Summer dreams,

And she breathes in the cool breeze from a window

Open and inviting.

The light is dim, bluish like fog,

And she pulls him closer to her like a blanket.

Perhaps she is waiting for speech.

He speaks,

And instantly she knows that this isn’t the case.

She is waiting for something else,

For something more.

The fingers on her skin move still,

The snow continues in its laborious fluttering,

Fighting the winter wind,

And still she waits.

For the child,

It is the child she seeks.

Her child.

Blonde curls, rosy cheeks, eyes lit with holiday cheer

Like angelic crystals.

She grins, appears from the gloom,

And the waiting is over.

Now they can celebrate.