Christmas

Can the joy of this day to come not be
so bright in the eyes of our kids to see?

How they wait for Grandma and Grandpa to come and read
that famous story, for then afterwards Santa will be.

Read the names on the presents they do, not caring what
it is as much as knowing the true meaning of this day.

Inside you look as you turn the decorations on outside. “Family” waiting
for you to say a prayer of love for all, always it should be this way.

So the wood crackles in the fireplace as the story is read. Once again,
you hold your sister’s hand as she holds your brother’s too.

To Mom and Dad who sit together watching this, a whip
of stardust flows out as they look into each other’s eyes.

Much hope is said as they go to bed. Mom says’ “Santa called
and said they were good.” Hey it’s my story, just little innocent lies.

As the presents are gone through with little fingers, one is never opened,
this is for those who lost a loved one, to keep Christmas going on.

So for those who have lost someone on this day, close your eyes
and let the memory come. See, they were never gone.



This Christmas for those we lost, the pictures of our family in my mind, I send to you as a portrait in the sky.