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Not Just Another Night

Holiday celebrations come in all forms - some original and others "borrowed" from pagan religions of the past


Wisps of white dance and shimmy across the drive

Winds whistle and sing out magnificent magical cries

Silence, but for the sights and sounds of nature

Green tips, just barely still visible on the garden trees

And yet all around the air is a feast of mountain pine

Snowdrifts ever growing, and yet starting to grey

The light above no longer its noontime brilliance

Strange shadows growing with the passing sun

Until the last rays quietly surrender to the colors of darkness

And for but a moment, sight becomes vivid and yet silent

Deep nighttime cold settles in, all things alive quietly hold space

Frost gathers in billowy clouds, released from hidden places

Sanctuaries of all creatures raised by the land

They know; somehow that this night tis not like the others

For a strange magic is whispering through the branches

And laughter of joyus children barreling down a snowy hill

Giggling while spinning upon the glass of a frozen pond

And yet, not a soul can be found roaming the city streets

All are at home, their minds lost to sweet dreams of tomorrow

Such are the ways of this place on this night

Soon the snow will abate, almost like on command

Clarity under the light of a great moon overhead

And the silence on high suddenly filled with a chiming

Winds that were slowed, started whipping and climbing

And a pathway appeared, almost as the sky, it had opened

Ushering in that which is both childlike and unspoken

A joyful old chap, with a sack load of goodness

On his way through the village, never stoping for photos

By the time they realized, he was long on his way

Back to bed, shook their head, just a dream they would say

That’s the trick of the magic, only found once in a year

If only they’d listen, and if only they’d hear