Merry Christmas to my love!
Enjoy the holiday!
Revel where the angels move,
Rejoice in what they say!
Years burn life down to a stub;
Christmas comes and goes.
Happiness lies at the nub,
Refuse of one’s woes.
Inside the husk there is the seed,
Shivering with glory;
The midnight cold, the dire need,
Mere setting for the story.
All the labor, loss, and pain
Sings of beauty born again
No Christmas for my children,
No husband for my bed,
No money for tomorrow,
No place to lay my head,
No tree with mounds of presents,
No ornaments or lights,
No smiles on Christmas morning,
No feast on Christmas night,
No toys to ease the boredom
Of hours before closed doors,
No family celebrations,
No trips to crowded stores,
No fireplace, no Santa,
No games aglow with friends,
No fire but feeble fury
As Christmas slowly ends.
For me I have no pity,
My sorrow stronger proves,
Because for my sweet children
I’ve nothing but my love.
What does Santa bring for daddies,
Too old to want a toy?
Wallets, watches, ties, and sweaters
Don’t make for much joy.
What do daddies want for Christmas,
Really, in their hearts?
So perfect that they’d shriek like kids
Once the shredding starts?
Oh, Daddy! Is there anything
You want beneath the tree?
Other than, of course, to watch
Me open gifts for me?
When death must come at Christmastime,
There is a special grief,
A mourning that must mix with joy,
A pain that must be brief.
There is an anguish underneath
The labyrinth of light
That longs for simple emptiness
To contemplate the night.
But life must bubble on its way
And pleasure be put on,
For neither sorrow nor delight
Is ever left alone.
And, like the Virgin, we must smile
With enigmatic grace
As we receive the fragile gift
That nothing can replace.
I will never forget that morning,
A cold inconsequential day,
Before the pale reluctant sun
Had peered across the frosted land.
The weary early morning rise
Another day of pointless toil
Another journey, another time
Bearing the burden on my back
Until the calm of blessed evening.
For then the time had come to rest,
Close by an inn known to my master.
A place of noise and open arms
And he led safely to the parlour
And me led roughly to a shed.
No other thought was in my mind
But food and drink and time to sleep.
I made no note of fellow travellers,
I gave no heed to smells or sounds,
Contented in the warmth and shelter.
A time to rest a time to breathe.
But soon the gloom around me faded
To show a soft and gentle light
And two road weary fellow travellers,
One with a baby in her arms.
A father and adoring mother
Afraid, bewildered and amazed.
And such a child beyond my knowledge
With gentle eyes that knew my mind,
Describing worlds of endless wisdom
In ways I did not understand,
Save for a wonderful prediction
That etched itself upon my heart.
But then the sound of other travellers,
Muffled voices at the door,
Took away my precious moment
Returned me to my pleasant stall,
To rest before the coming morrow
Another harsh and dreary day.
But I held close that precious memory
Until the sweet and palm strewn day
When he fulfilled his holy promise.
That someday we would meet again.
