Christmas Angel Reminds Poem by Micron Jan

At the crown of the pine,
the angel listens—
glass wings catching
every shimmer of the room.

She stands watch
over garlands and soft laughter,
over cocoa steam
and the hush between songs.

But mostly,
she looks beyond us—
to the empty chairs
we still set in our hearts,
to the hands we can't hold
but still feel warming ours.

Those we've loved
and lost to the quiet edges of time,
they gather in the glow,
gentle as snowfall.
They know the tune
of every memory we keep.

And the angel,
bright as a whispered blessing,
tilts her head as if to say:
They're near.
In the flicker of the lights,
in the stillness after midnight,
in the love that never found a way
to leave.