The Heart of Winter

 

A light to the gentiles, a light to the world,

A drum to be beaten, a banner unfurled.

A cross for crusaders, a pyre in the night,

A faith with a reason to brace for the fight.

 

Such humble beginnings a stable and stall,

Is that best forgotten, no matter at all,

With prelates in palaces, bishops on thrones,

And so many churches with blood in their stones.

 

I might light a candle, remember my past,

The incense and altar the die that was cast,

The bright exaltation, the hope in each prayer,

The sad realisation that no-one was there.

 

And yet in the teachings I see the profound,

I stand on this base earth yet find holy ground,

The urge to corruption has fled down the years,

And sometime regretful I flow with my tears.

 

Around me the signs of liturgical joy,

The angels still herald the birth of the boy,

But mothers still weep at the foot of a cross,

For nothing is perfect without perfect loss.

 

Today I wrapped presents, some bright coloured prize,

Some gifts for a child in this world full of lies.

I envy such innocence, wide eyed and new,

In a world full of falsehood where little is true.

 

The media fills with the season’s good cheer,

But still only say what they want us to hear,

The toy that’s a must have, the gadgets, the booze,

For what in the end do we all have to lose.

 

I’ll give you an answer, perhaps hard to take,

We’re children of Eve and we welcome the snake,

These brash tawdry products will not make us whole.

And possessions they say can be death to the soul.

 

I’m needing that candle that light in the dark,

For as I get older the choices are stark,

To stand beside angels with love in my heart,

Or pander to mammon and set them apart.

 

Be safe in the sanctuary, safe with the blessed,

But pray for the doubters, that they might have rest,

Full rest from the anguish, full rest from the fear,

Full knowing the good truth of Christmas is near.