Christmas Eve

I stand by the shell of a dive

That was one of my favorite places

And wait for the snow to arrive

While around me the lonely pieces

Of the city's splintered soul,

With a hermit's scarf on their faces

And their eyes on the ground or the goal,

Like bees from a shaken hive

Swarm through the electric cold.

Past windows that advertise

The price of the latest craze --

The toy that will always please,

The game that will always be played --

Pedestrians on the run

From the job that eats their days

Attack the streets and weave

In search of immediate fun

Like soldiers on short leave.

Armed to the teeth with intent,

Movement is what they are --

I can see them from where I stand

As they arrow past the bar --

The lords of a scurrying race

Who fill the seasonal streets

Day in and day out again --

Not motionless even in sleep;

A race of sharks, not men.

Now snowflakes feather the sky,

And swirl on the whips of the wind

Through canyons that preach the lie

Of civilization's thrust

And the worth of the marked-down buy --

The lie that goods which are sold

Or bought by the shopping cart

Will answer the needs of the soul

Or buy an unquestioning heart.

The truth is a quieter voice,

A whisper which softly sings

That winter was made to rejoice,

And babies are born to bring peace,

And people are worth more than things,

And none of us are alone --

Which we all must learn firsthand

Before our immigrant souls

Return to their native land.

By the light of a pagan tree,

In the heat of a candle's glow,

We are part of a common name

That atomized long ago --

The sparks of a broken flame

That burns for the oystered pearl,

That seeks by uncommon stars

For the leap of persistent joy

And the answer behind the world.

But no stars shine above  --

Just the obstinate distant glow

Of a gray and thoughtless heaven

Which I cannot confront or know --

And there are no easy answers,

Just people with hopes and fears

Who pass by each other blind

On the way to a warm lit room

In the lonely way of their kind.

In this age where we make ends meet

Between the push and the shove

And huddle like lambs in the night

And yearn for a gift from above

To fall, like the snow, at my feet,

We must each do what we can

In the teeth of the old year's death

To affirm the worth of man

And the fellowship of breath.

All we are is a storm --

Like snowflakes we meet the earth

With an individual kiss,

And together we pile and drift

Till the blizzard of our birth,

Like a long-discarded gift,

Is forgotten, and we grow gray

By the side of a shining road

Till we finally melt away.

All we have is a day

In the calendar of Time

To light an affirming flame

Beneath the seasonal dome

Of distant tinselled stars,

To make from this desert a home,

And do our daily part

To keep the soldiers of Rome

From conquering our hearts.

All I can do is my best

To candle against the night --

To swear by each morning sun

That all of us come from light,

So it's all of us or none --

And to stand each day I live

For the rules that I yearly believe

When I bravely play at love

On the day after Christmas Eve.

Copyright 2011 Matthew J Wells