Grandfather's Christmas of
Sleigh bells and holly
And Bethlehem's child
Is gone.
Ours is a Blitzmas of
Hype and hurry––
Visa cards and worry––
Governmental indices of
Retail sales.
Yet,
If we take the time
To mark the lengthening
Shadows of our lives
In the shortening days
Of the year––
If we stretch our legs
Before the warming hearth––
Close eyes
Touch hands
And dream––
The pounding seconds fade,
The driving hours disappear,
And the embers of the forgetful fire
Begin to reminisce
In their own sweet
Crackling time.
It is then, only then,
That we come to share
Our loving, human Christmas,
The way it was
And will always be.