The Christmas Feast

The table stretches a mile long,
Dark wood glossed to perfection,
A white lace runner, candles lit bright.
The room is endless and well lit,
A comfortable place, a welcoming room,
With a Christmas tree, colored lights,
And too many ornaments to count.
I sit at the end of the table
And look out at the stretch before me.
My guests are dressed in festive clothes,
Not fancy, but comfortable,
The way I am used to seeing them.
Before us is a feast, the smell strong,
The colors brilliant and fresh,
All dishes are someone's favorite
Even if they are not a Christmas norm.
But the conversation is lively,
A time to catch up for the days we've missed,
The years gone by, some too numerous
And some too few, lived and missed,
Passed but never forgotten,
Now wholly cherished by all.
Memories, events, advice;
The good and the bad mingle here,
I want to hear it all.
Because the faces of all my guests
Are at this feast alone.
You, my guests, are the ones I've lost,
The loved ones still loved strong
Even though God has called you home.
Uncle Tony sits with Aunt Louise,
Both sets of grandparents together at last.
Jahmil is there, and Kathy, too,
Cousins, neighbors, friends we are,
Eternity means nothing tonight.
And as I sit back and listen
My mind smiles to itself.
Because each year is worth working through
To get back to this one day feast.