Advent

The Christmas music on the radio
Used to annoy me. Frankly, it still does.
But overlaid upon it is the glow
Of thinking about you. The little buzz
Of sharp annoyance that I used to feel
Is now transmuted into just a sigh
That mixes into it the very real
Discovery that when I hear it I
Am, by its mere existence, turned to you.
I cannot help but in that moment see
That you, and every little thing you do,
Are more important, more alive to me
Than that which used to make me ill at ease
And thus the music finds a way to please.