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Every Christmas never dawned but
as pulses beating in a caring heart.
Every star was never less than holy
leading the wise to kings newborn.
Every mother always gave to earth
a child who never declined her love.
Every child was nearer than breath
before its birth made glad all stars.
Every angel never less than gave a
blessing to all babies new on earth.
Every true gift was never not given
from open hands into grateful need.
Every unseen world is now unsilent
as it rings with timely songs of joy

After all, the Earth must wait for spring.
No angel ever changed the pace of time.
Goodness is still tucked away below,
Empty as a field asleep in snow,
Like iron in the harshness of that clime
As God is born in frozen Bethlehem.

Calendars may mark the tides of love;
However, please recall that love's the sea.
Rest easy, then, in Christmas' sweet madness,
Illumined by the pregnant star of gladness,
Serene within the depths of you and me.
There is no pain no happiness can move,
Making room for cherished company,
Antidote for life's incumbent sadness
So long as will and wisdom puissant prove.

Can anyone explain the glow of Christmas?
Holidays are candles in the night.
Rebirth comes from family and friends
In one bright blur of food and talk that ends
Still burning as a peaceful inner light.
There is no way to substitute for Christmas.
Miss it and no circumstance feels right.
All my heart's with you, yet I must miss this
Season thick with love and rich delight.

Can the wind across the snow
Howl enough of frozen pain?
Return to where the children go.
In love and hope begin again.
So did Christ return to Earth
That lovers might renew their love.
May all your longing bring to birth
A passion that no wind can move,
So strong no wind can stronger prove.

Candles are a gift of light,
A tiny sun, a bit of star.
No other dancer in the night
Dances with such sheer delight,
Little souls serene and bright,
Each a glimpse of what we are
Shining innocent and pure.

Cheer is not what you'd expect from Christmas:
Headaches are more like it, lack of sleep,
Raw nerves, rough words, waits to make you weep,
Irritable hours, days, intense, relentless.
So much money, time, so many dreams
Tied to one quick wanton winter's morning,
More an orgy than a merry dawning,
A ritual divorced from what it means.
Still, each year the love within it gleams.

Christmas is a holiday for friends,
However they may be, or not, related.
Remember that the three wise kings were strangers
In search of one remote, uncanny dream.
So may we all be far more than we seem,
Together bound for dark and haunting changes,
More lovely for the loves we have created
Along the lonely paths from means to ends,
Stumbling towards that star of Bethlehem.

Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to reshape souls and roots and skies,
A time to give your heart to everyone

Freely, like a rich and lavish sun,
Like a burning star to those whose lonely sighs
Show need of such a time for love and fun.

For children first, whose pain is never done,
Whose bright white fire of anguish never dies,
It's time to give your heart to every one,

That not one angel fall, to hatred won
For lack of ears to listen to her cries,
Or arms to carry him towards love and fun,

Or friends to care what happens on the run
To adult life, where joy or sadness lies.
It's time to give your heart to everyone,

For God loves all, and turns His back on none,
Good or twisted, ignorant or wise.
Christmas is a time for love and fun,
A time to give your heart to everyone.

Christmas is a time of little time.
How we get there is a mystery.
Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb
Into fields of sunlit harmony.
Shopping, cooking, clearing walks and yards,
Trimming house and tree while working, too;
Making phone calls, wrapping, writing cards,
As all worn out we do what we must do
So that this day of joy might joy renew.

Christmas is for cowards and for thieves.
How might they be loved as dearest friends?
Redemption starts where satisfaction ends.
Instinctively, one does as one believes.
So did Christ love everyone the same
That everyone might love the same as he.
Most children that are loved will loving be
As they become the people they became.
So shall you love all creatures in his name.

Christmas isn't easy far apart.
Holidays are an incessant bell
Ringing through the hollows of the heart,
Invading passages I know too well.
So does Christmas trespass on my sadness,
Taking precious room I save for you.
Missing you is a reclusive madness,
Altering each harmony and hue,
Shadowing each shade I vacant view.

Christmas really isn't about toys,
However much we love them, young and old.
Reductions in the fat of Christmas day
In time restore its vigor and its health.
So let us not display our absent wealth,
Though children should have ample chance to play.
More sweet and joyous music must be sung,
And thoughts of peace and mercy make their way
Silent and uncluttered through the noise.

Cold comfort in the chastity of sorrow,
Having turned in pain towards innocence,
Reaching through the madness for the marrow,
Intent, for once, on yielding all pretence;
Sensing the necessity of love
Though feeling none but hunger well within,
Meaning nothing more than one might prove
As one finds little proof in death and sin:
So it was one night in Bethlehem.

Could there be angels waiting in the wings,
How might we call upon their ecstasy?
Rainbows are mere garnish on the days
In which we are the glory and the light.
So may we hear the songs our sunshine sings,
The words which will the wonder of our ways;
May we know how good it is to be
As we celebrate the holidays,
So much in love we weep as angels might.

I want you to be here with me for Christmas,
Even if you leave your heart at home.
I know that lately my love makes you restless,
But it's too hard to spend this time alone.

My love for you is like the Christmas season:
Joyful, yet with knowledge of the end.
My need for you has neither hope nor reason:
If not a lover, please, just be a friend.

Please, just be a friend, and come to me
When all the world is bright with love and song.
You are my pillar and my fantasy,
My earth and yet the sky for which I long.

My need for you, of course, is mine, not yours,
Nor need you answer me but out of love.
This is the season when we open doors
To let in those whose need our hearts might move.

And after Christmas you may go your way
To leave me with my sadness and my dreams.
I have no right to bother you to stay,
Knowing how your heart, unaltered, leans.

I want you to be here with me for Christmas,
Even if you leave your heart at home.
What you decide, and why, is not my business,
But still for me it's hard to be alone.

How lovely 'tis to take this time
To greet our dearest friends,
To wish them health and happiness
Before the old year ends.

Darkness comes late afternoon
And winter lies ahead,
But friendship is a glowing fire
When all seems cold and dead.

Just as in some vacant barn,
Unnoticed in the night,
The whole of human history turns,
So we, too, make things right.

We must keep alive the flame
Though darkness grip the Earth;
For in the love we find in friends
Is our chance for rebirth

Merry Christmas to the one I love,
Even on this day of love for all,
Remembering the love of one whose call
Redeemed all those whose hearts his love might move.
Yet only one love does my spirit prove,
Chosen in a passion like a squall,
Having in such ecstasy withal
Rejoiced in what we were created of.
In such love do we find our way outdoors,
So to be drawn to love of flesh and soul,
Traveling beyond our village green,
Moving towards the wash along our shores
As our love joins the greater love unseen,
Shining with dark passion on the whole.

May this Christmas be the first of many,
Each more joyous in our growing love,
Revealing more of happiness than any
Riches might provide or pain remove.
Years flow like an unrepentant river,
Carrying the soil of life away,
Holding far more than they can deliver,
Rushing past the certitudes that stay.
In love there is an instance of forever
So shy and lovely it eludes the eye,
The sense of being home when we're together,
More enduring than a reason why.
As love is born of passion, borne by will,
So may for many years we choose love still.

I'm your Christmas tree, all brightly lit,
Hung with angels, colored balls, and elves.
Underneath my boughs your presents sit,
If you've behaved yourselves.

Why must we wait till early Christmas morn
To open up our brand-new games and toys?
Why gifts for us the day that Christ was born
If we're good girls and boys?

Now listen to your Christmas tree: I'm wise
In all the ways of faith that you must know.
I'm here because of what I symbolize:
Green through ice and snow.

There is a world beyond what we can see
Where, by grace of God, we can receive
God's greatest gift: to live eternally,
If only we believe.

Eternal life is what God gave to you
In sending down His son to live on Earth.
This was His gift, so Santa brings gifts, too,
To celebrate Christ's birth.

The baby Jesus got gifts on this day
Because, like any child, He loved to play.
And so God wants to share this special joy
With every girl and boy.

Believe God loves you as your parents do,
And takes great joy in giving gifts to you.
Live well and love, and evergreen like me,
You'll live eternally.

Though this may be our Christmas last,
It is a time of cheer.
We dance within a theater vast,
Yet live from year to year.

All that we have shared remains
Within when we are gone,
Just as a house, though long since dust,
Might well remain a home.

And so we lift this glass of joy
Once more on Christmas Eve,
For time ought not such times destroy,
Nor gifts untimely leave.

The Druids thought the mistletoe
Would stop the meanest witches,
Cure the most severe disease,
Keep cradles safe from switches.

Enemies laid down their arms
Beneath its pungent spell.
For one whole day they could not fight,
Though hatred fire the will.

In later centuries it served
To force a willing kiss.
For those reluctant on their own
It was the door to bliss.

Today it is a symbol of
The mystic powers of Earth,
For when the sun's about to die
In love we find rebirth.

Mothers mean much more on Christmas day,
Even though they're loved the whole year round.
Rich memories lie knee-deep on the ground,
Recalling years when gifts unopened lay,
Years of Christmases near wild with play,
Christmases of dreams unwrapped and crowned,
Happiness with wings and joy unbound,
Reveling in myths time would betray.
In you there lies the spirit of pure giving,
Sweetness that finds pleasure in my smile,
The gift I can reopen every year.
More than my own, I find your heart forgiving,
A home where I am welcome all the while,
So I can rest assured, for you are near.

May you walk among the stars of morning,
Eden waiting silent for the dawn,
Ready to unravel without warning,
Restless with the urge to be reborn.
Years of longing pale into beauty;
Christmas is a never-realized dream.
However much devoted to your duty,
Remember that the flow is not the stream.
In my heart you wear a crown of glory
So radiant that time must turn away.
The vision rises from the untold story
More lovely than what sees the light of day.
As you can never know just who you are,
So let my love become your eastern star.

Miracles have a way of making news.
Even skeptics stare at parted seas.
Religious or not--Christians, Muslims, Jews--
Resurrection brings them to their knees!
Years ago, miracles were in vogue:
Christ and Moses wowed the willing crowds;
Holy icons healed both saint and rogue;
Rare wonders were ascribed to cups and shrouds.
In our time miracles are everyday,
So few can hope to grab us, or astound.
The mysteries that clutter up our way
May seem much more perplexing than profound.
And yet life is miraculous: to be
Surpasses any wonder we might see.

More than ever now I want you with me.
Each day lays waste the day that came before.
Remembering the home that your heart gives me
Restores the peace that, lost, torments me more.
Yet we must be apart this day of joy,
Close in spirit, far apart in flesh,
Happy in a hope time can't destroy
Replenished by a sorrow ever fresh.
In us there is a glory from afar
So precious no brief moment of despair
That rises up can match that eastern star,
Miracle it is our gift to share.
As all our joy is cause for all our pain,
So when I'm home all will be joy again.