The circle goes round. My daughter prepares the holiday feast, While composing her home for winter's celebration. She chooses linens for her table, and spices and herbs to bless her kitchen. The sweet fragrance of bayberry wafts from scented candles.
Carols echo down the stairs.
I observe her tiny movements. They are subtle. Like an artist, she is painting her canvas. She is a young woman responding to the ancient call to hearth. She shines like a diamond under the noonday sun.