When I asked myself the question: What could I do to help give some meaning to this year's Christmas period, the following poem appeared in my mind. I am not in the habit of writing poems (in fact this is the first I have ever written out properly) - so I share it with trepidation; - but it may help some, as it has me, to feel slightly differently about the event.......?

'tis the season of the year
when days are shortest,- nights are long.
The sun stands low and soon gives way to darkening dusk.

In days of old, when candles had to serve,
this was felt more than we can know today,
when fossil-fueled light is cheap around the clock.

No wonder then,  that the arrival of the King of Light
was placed into this time of darkness,
when fear abounds and hope is low.

The King of Inner Light, who,
with His entourage of angels, stars and songs of peace
shines into the darkest hour;

Rekindling long forgotten dreams
and bringing courage to the heart
amid the rough and tumble of the frantic year.

A YEAR IS BUT A DIGIT IN THE CIRCLE OF THE SEASONS OF MANKIND.

And so we find ourselves quite out of touch with our inner world
in this our winter of mankind's affairs,
when fossil-fueled light is cheap around the clock.

Yet winter preceding spring, and inkling dawns,
that  inner truths seen but by few in days of old
will wake in many, in a more measured world, fueled by the sun.

So are we gathered round the tree that's ever green
bedecked with colorful gold and silver trinkets
glittering gently in slowly changing fairy lights,

the children's eyes with joy of expectation sparkle,
and parents too feel in their hearts a faintly glowing recollection:
A momentary glow of long forgotten silent things,

all but extinguished by the constant pressure
of external duties' relentless speeding
by the fossil-fueled light around the clock.

Thus at this moment, as the days grow longer,
in the deep winter of humanity's affairs,
we remember the birthday of the King of Inner Light,

and hand in hand proclaim Him,
and hand in hand proclaim Him,
and hand in hand proclaim Him in joyful song:

OH COME ALL YE FAITHFUL.................

Shanti, shanti, shanti,
namaste
Percy

Thank you so much, Lizzie, for your kind words and I 'm so glad the poem meant something to you.
But if I was talented, I would know what to say to Irene. Have you been following her heart-rending story under "Philosophical"? I shall try and say something for her now, but I don't know how one can help her?

Percy