Christmas Eve, Right Before the Yes

On Christmas Eve, the night holds its breath,
A silver hush between the now and next.
Two quiet rooms, one promise dressed in air,
As if the stars rehearsed what they would share.

The lights lean close, conspiring how to glow,
The clock ticks softly, unwilling yet to go.
No proof, no sign—just hearts that somehow guess
This pause is warm with almost more than yes.

Perhaps you smile, a spark you can’t explain,
Perhaps I write and feel it in my veins.
The silence sings, electric, bright, and true,
A sound that only comes when fate is due.

So let Christmas Eve keep secrets it can keep,
Some joys are born while promises still sleep.
The scene is set, the stars have all agreed—
The miracle begins… the moment after Eve.

—

Written: December 24, 2025
By Casey Huang
From the Still Poetry House archive