Crackling of the Wood

As I type on this cold eve

all I hear except these keys

is the fireplace's gentle flames so good

with their snap and hiss and pop,

the crackling of the wood.

The first real fire of the year

beside our holiday tree

glowing this year silver and white

with tinsel, white doves, and crystal flakes.

Oh yes, and an angel up high and bright.

These things are simple.

They warm my heart

as the fire it warms my feet.

So I quietly sit asking our Lord

how I may serve

and be more than merely incomplete.

Is the answer Lord gently there

amongst the snap and hiss and pop?

Is it thus far that I have misunderstood

in my heart or in my soul or

in the crackling of the wood?