The cover by the great George Booth of the New Yorker’s Christmas issue nails the frenzied feeling of the holidays. Even Santa doesn’t have it together: all hell is breaking loose at the North Pole. Ian Frazier’s yearly poem Greetings, Friends puts it all into perspective. Check out this lovely bit:
A dearth of comfort to be found
In how the world is unreeling
Can’t deflate a hopeful feeling.
Next year may bring a whole new phase,
A plentitude of better days,
Grace completely unexpected,
Previously undetected,
Perfect breaks we don’t deserve
And don’t need to; so let’s swerve
Upward, onward in the crush
Of this season’s crazy rush,
Jumping with both feet, not looking,
On amazing grace depending.