THE LIGHTS OF CHRISTMAS

THE LIGHTS OF CHRISTMAS

The lights of Christmas still amaze me,
Just as when I was a child.
Though my face is growing weathered
With each weary mile.

The lights of Christmas charm me,
In this special season,
Where the Christ child’s birth is heralded,
Giving this world a reason.
A reason to silence its cannon fire and its atom bombs,
To join hands in a solemn procession,
Damn the economy, damn the recession.
Damn the naysayers and all the cynics who proclaim that peace on earth is dead.
Praise God for all the mercies he has heaped upon our heads.

I love the Santas and the reindeer and the blinking stars.
I love the piped in Christmas carols that echo from the yards.
I love the over the top displays, too much for me is never enough.
I love the full length Christmas cards and all that sentimental stuff.

I love those bright humongous snow globes that are relatively new,
I love the miniature lighted trains, I love to park and take in the view.
My mother reappears to me in the passenger seat of my car.
A pleasure she and I would share, I hold her memory in my heart.

I love the giant nativity scenes, Mary, Joseph, and the Holy Child,
The sacred and profane are all the same, they mix in a weird yet a wondrous style.
And the constant in all of these is love, in the coldest season of the year.
The love of a parent for a child to create a holiday island of cheer.
Then to turn around like a secret Santa and unwittingly share it with me.
From the bottom of my heart I thank you for your wonderlands of beauty.

And here in Wakeland where we live, the elves have all been busy,
Losing themselves in a dreamland, a decorating tizzy.
I could drive the streets from end to end, and still not fully take it in.
The gigantic Grinches, the Mickey Mouses, the Plutos and the Penguins,
Delight me with their colors and their bright shenanigans.

The lights of Christmas still bedazzle and beguile,
Just as much or even more than when I was a child.
Though my face is growing old and weathered,
The lights of Christmas make me smile and swoon,
A most delightful decadence, that flies me to the moon.

-Bruce Potts
Copyright 2010
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED