Christmas poems

Here it is, the eve of Christmas eve!  It seems to come earlier every year.  Here is a poem I've written on the subject.

What is it about December

that amplifies expectations?

Most Christmases I remember

left me pondering these questions.

Why do we scurry store to store

buying our kids shiny new toys?

They have so much but still want more

of things that all make lots of noise.

We tell them absurd fairy tales

of Santa Claus and helper elves.

We build them up but it all fails

to thrill while we wear out ourselves.

We try instilling magic into lives

who already are full of stuff.

Get down to basics; what survives

is knowing we all have enough.

Hear the true meaning of Christmas:

No magic here, but history.

Earthmaker’s Son, alive in us.

Heaven touched earth. Sweet mystery!