"Christmas is most truly Christmas when we celebrate it by giving the light of love to those who need it most." Ruth Carter Stapleton
It is the festive season yet in Christmas past I think we all went haywire at Christmas time with the endless unrestrained and often silly buying
of gifts, because we hadn't quite mastered putting our love into words.
This year our time apart from each other and the restrictions on gatherings might mean that this is a simple Christmas where we all have learned more about putting our love for each other into words.
Someone reminded me the other day that she still had a poem I wrote for a Christmas years ago, and she asked me if I'm still writing poetry. It has been a busy year of writing a book and sharing my thoughts with you all through this column, but no poems. My Angels said, "Go on, why not?" So here goes.
I'm a little past the reindeer, and what sleighs and bells proclaim.
There are so many Santas these days, it fuddles with my brain.
It's going to be hot, in our Southern Hemisphere spot.
Any snow is going to melt down the drains.
Though one thing I know, when outside at night I go,
above the houses and street-lights and cars,
there's every chance I will see stars.
They light up the sky, sparkling at us as clouds pass on by,
a reminder of light of love.
Hiding our light will see it grow dim,
yet there is something that will cause us to grin.
Go laugh and be silly, dressing up and rushing about willynilly,
finding those that need the light of love.
