New Year's Stockings

by Yannick Imbert

“Where’s my New Year's stockings,” you said.

I turn around and see your eyes,

bright, expectant. I scratched my head:

“Is it Christmas?” … To my surprise

I realize you were ahead

of beauty and truth: sunrise

will never wait for days to fade,

everyday is for giving; “Rise!”

I tell my brain, “and see again

that every moment in this place

calls forth visions of days again

suffused with ordinary grace.”

Now every hour, a gift obtained

by the goodness of His embrace.

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Yannick Imbert teaches theology in southern France at Faculté Jean Calvin. He is a Tolkien scholar and publishes books and articles at the intersection of theology and culture. His poems have been featured in Ekstasis, Macrina, Foreshadow, and Vessels of Light. He writes in French at: delagracedansencrier.com