I heard a note of sadness rise,
A plaintiff cry, no gladness, sighs.
And yet it seems there should be joy;
It's Christmas for each girl and boy,
But there's a quietness, a hush;
Too early for the Christmas rush.
Perhaps too many people cry
Around the world, uncertain why.
To reminisce, it is man's right,
Remembering the darkest night.
What gory days brought home the prize?
But then, when does true gladness rise?
Adult and child, broken and whole,
Yet still one heart, who can console?
Wherein doth lie the heart of man?
We know God has a higher plan.
Collective soul, unified mind,
True happiness each still can find.
A touch of winter on the way,
With swirling snow that may not stay.
A yuletide log upon the hearth,
With light and love to spread its warmth,
Awareness of the glory days,
The olden times, which we all praise.
With heartfelt thanks for days of yore,
While yet still wrestling to the core,
Instinctively, we celebrate,
Knowing for us, it's ne'er too late.
