Christmas! It needs no announcement,
Arriving each year without fail
On the heels of brisk blustering Autumn
And a frigid dark New Year at tail.
But, for now, light pierces the night
In a spiritually resonant way:
“Peace to the good, warmth to the loved,
Joy to the cheery,” say their rays
Filtered through glass with amberish hues
And beckoning snowy skies sing
Over church bells a-pealing and wreath-laden roofs
And bundled bunched kids snowballing.
But I feel none of all that which they feel –
Once I did! This same time long ago.
Back then, flakes were a prismatic flutter of awe
And these stores bathed the streets with their glow,
Just as tonight. Nothing has changed
Except perhaps me, overwhelmed
By the sensory tempest of holiday cheer
That blindsides me, lost at the helm.
I had only just vacated Old Marley’s Pub
Stuffed with bangers and smoky Old Fashioneds
To plop down upon an ice-glazed staircase
Where I leech off strangers’ traditions.
I spied those aforementioned children
Slipping across a solid lake;
Kitchens of rosy-cheeked relatives
In scentillating cookie bakes;
An elderly couple on their porchswing
Rocking to Elvis’ lulling croon;
A carnival of colorful caravans
Selling strudel ‘neath silvery moon;
A procession of costumed choristers
Skipping to “Ding-Dong Merrily”
Past an outlet mall’s North Pole gazebo
Where Santa ho-hos wearily;
The tongues of dimming lanterns lick
Sleek on billowing sleet
As the winds pick up, inhospitable
To those wishing to keep their feet.
Or perhaps it was to force all inside
Where they partake of a succulent feast—
The kind of which all who enjoy
Leave full, even when given the least.
Then off to bed, those drowsy heads,
Dreaming of angels or shades;
Warmth in their covers and memories hover
So that wonder and love never fades.
It faded for me, out here in the streets,
Shivering alone by choice.
I have family with whom I could be celebrating
But their laughter to me is all noise
For I have lost the light and the love and the cheer
That this holiest night is about—
Sitting frostbitten for most of the year,
Stewing in intermittent doubt.
My wonder is not in beholding the season,
But instead asking, “Why, God, why
Have you allowed the joy I felt in my childhood
To vanish like snow in July?
Where have they flown, those feelings of fondness
For all that makes my life good,
Leaving behind this sleet of despondence
That buries me in a chilled mood?
My only guess is adulthood;
This headspace comes natural to all
When harsh reality demands most of the room
And dreams answer no longer your calls.
Before I could sink fully into self-pity
For this apathetic state of affairs,
I felt the warm breath of someone behind me
Sitting higher up on the stairs.
I turned ever-slowly—their silence was startling—
Half-expecting to be mugged or shot,
Only to peer up into the calmest, kind face
Of a man who had seen quite a lot.
“A Merry Night to you, son,” he wisped with a smile,
Both of which were congenially sincere,
As he took three steps down to my level—
I did not once mind just how near.
“I can see,” he implored, “something weighs on your mind,
And offer my hand if you’d take it.”
“It’s nothing,” I deflected, “you can relieve,
Since this bed’s in my head while I make it.”
“I’d say that’s much better,” he chuckled in turn,
“For a mind’s much more easily turned
Towards things that are higher in spirit and aim
Than a heart whose hardness is earned.
That said, to confide in a friend,
Even one you don’t know all that well,
Who cares enough to ask what is wrong
Might get you out of your personal hell.”
So I let it all out to this complete stranger—
My heartache, my confusion, my pain—
He listened intently, with unmatched empathy,
I felt my frustrations drain
As we paused for a moment, to my benefit,
Calling high spirits to calm.
Then he proceeded to make an assessment
With tone applied gently like balm:
“The problem, it seems—just my opinion
Which you are free to dispute—
Is that Christmas is truly a culmination!
Yet, you treat it like the root
Cause for all the joy you expect
Though the rest of your year disappointed,
Turning you sour from witnessing little effect
And leaving your perception disjointed.”
He rose and patted my back to follow—
We returned to the scene I had seen
With children and cookies and couples and trees
And the sound of “Ding-Dong Merrily.”
Though the square was now empty, the echoes prevailed—
Dreams lingered and waltzed in the air
As my companion rhythmically nodded along
With the quiet reverence of prayer.
“The joy that you’re missing,” he gently spoke,
“Will return when you’ve found your lost piece
That builds a year worth celebrating
An investment towards your future peace.
For what good is a tree decorated underground
Or a Santa behind a glass wall?
What purpose serves an inn with no guests
Or a man who leaves love in the hall?
I tell you this, this Eve means the most
To a mother with nary a cent,
But her children surrounding her all through the dark
‘Til their warmth melts the ice that was sent.
For Christmas can be, to many, a symbol
Of what was once lost or evades;
Still, I urge you, push past hopeless feelings
Before the gift to feel anything fades.
Whether gypsy or Kachillionaire,
Life is not lived alone
Nor is it lived for the sake of oneself;
A house does not make a home.
No, a home is made by the cookies you smell—
beloved carols you can harmonize
—the memories hung every year on the tree—
The future you see in the eyes
Of the people who love you, who treasure your past
And are still by your side in the present.
You will find Christmas joy if you seek it each day —
A fruitful year deserves peace as its present.”
This son of man smiled the most heartwarming smile
And set off barefoot in the snow—
My eyes followed him for as long as they could
‘Til he disappeared past the lampglow.
But the lasting effect of his words sang on in my heart
Like angels oe’er blizzard-struck mountains
That would melt at the start of the forthcoming year,
Freeing bountiful, beautiful plains
Where I will toil and build and nurture and treasure
The things that make each morning bright
While casting aside the burdens of fear
That doubt if I’ll live through the night.
People now poured out into the streets
As their cheer chimed in the new day
And the wreaths and the tinsel and the holly and lights
Glistened brighter above all their play
While the snow fell down now in softer, slow chunks,
No longer whipping or cutting with sighs.
Horses pull sleds, all are well-fed,
And the church bells peal how time flies.
Christmas is not just one season of hope;
It rewards all the hope that we’ve shown
In putting to good use serving a purpose
For the people and places we’ve grown.
And those feelings, they filled me, though I thought I had lost
What was close to my heart long ago.
But with my path now lit, my future now clear–
That lost Christmas spirit now had a place to flow.
Off to my family! I’m dashing like Rudolph,
Heart light as when I was a boy—
For in Christmas Eve darkness I settled my piece
And with Christmas morning comes joy.
Morning's Early Dark 