It is the season to be jolly, right?
And life itself rejoices that the night
Will not grow endless, but will ebb at last.
Though winter winds may freeze, we’ll garnish tree.
We’re warm inside recalling Christmas past.
The wheels of sun and stars: infinity.
Imagine back to near Infinity.
Our ancient mothers’ guesses turned out right:
What seemed like end of life at last was past.
As sun began to warm the endless night;
As leaves again will promise filling tree;
Though snowflakes fall, we know they will not last.
So long ago we first learned hope would last
Beyond the cold that seemed infinity.
Perhaps we learned our hope from winter’s tree.
Perhaps the rhythm of our breathing, right?
Or kenned the wheel in daily death of Night?
And, everything that seemed forever … passed.
Yet, now we like to think our past has passed.
Attention’s but a moment not to last.
Pandemic seems like dark and endless night;
The politics of hate — infinity.
But life has always been a struggle. Right?
Let’s take our inspiration from the Tree.
The endless hope of Life’s great Tree.
A Tree who learns from all its moments past.
To seek the truth is always brave and right.
And only Death insists that first is last;
Or worships nil as gold Infinity.
We sing our songs of love to brighten Night.
We use the truth to beautify the Night.
We dance; we sing; we decorate the Tree.
We laugh; we celebrate Infinity.
We tell our tales of hope till night has passed.
To spite the cold, we give our gift at last.
We all know fair and truth and love are right.
We Love Infinity; and Love the Night.
We work for what is Right and Love Life’s Tree.
We learn from all that’s passed. Let Christmas last!
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petersironwood 