The darkness is held in the flame of a small candle. The quiet night serenaded by my little dog’s dream barks. The gentle music with the sounds of the ocean waves fills the room. It is time for bed and my heart ponders.

I ponder a red cup. I ponder those tucked inside sleeping bags trying to stay out of the wind and cold. I ponder those so immersed in pain they are wandering the streets not knowing they are lost. I ponder the celebration of a baby born in a simple manager without adornment that will make or break retail stores viability as well as individual bank accounts. I ponder the sweet earth and the slow destruction of the gift we were given. I ponder. The coffee warms the coffee mug. The coffee mug warms my hands. And the whisper comes softly….

“Little one will you be like the mug? Will you receive the heat and warmth of my passion, my desire, and my compassion? Will you be transformed and hold its heat? Will you let others hold the transformation and be warmed like your hands? Will you be transformed not knowing if anyone will know the warmth? Will you be content to simply let me pour?”

My little dog is quiet. The candle flame has burned down to the wick’s end. Time for bed. I take one last sip of coffee and say good night to the pondering. I bow my head, warm my cheeks with my hands and whisper…pour…pour…pour.