Christmas Eve comes once a year
Full of expectations
A time of hope and excitement
But the question pondered
Remains the same:
Will tomorrow bring fulfillment of dreams
Will Christmas Day bring peace on earth,
Love and joy
Good will to all
And every year we sing the same carols,
Chant the Magnificat—
As if it has come true —
Pray let it be, let it be.
And in every annual repetition our hope continues unabated, seeking an answer.
Maybe this time around,
The tree we decorate with lights,
And stack with gifts for family and friends,
Will make everyone happy and thrilled
And the world born this day, safe and warm,
And next spring a future of delight.
We greet the future, with regular routines of welcome annually,
Now make into sacred ritual
— candles, cookies, wreaths and trees,
reds and green, angels and bright lights,
Along with the traditional nativity scenes.
All our preparations, like magic, conjures this one hope.
May tomorrow’s coming surprise with joy,
Or at least soothe our sorrow, sustain our hope.
As the new day dawns just the same
And concludes at sunset like all the rest.
Nothing much changed, but we take it down, clean up the mess, pay the bill and prepare for the next,
A child is born everyday, more than one,
To face a future most ambiguous.
Will it be one surrounded with love, plenty of food and wine to revel in
Will it be impoverished full of abuse starvation, and resentment,
Will this son be welcomed as number one,
Will this daughter be treated as equal,
Will the world accept their gifts or ignore them,
Will they be slaves or someone’s master,
And the truth is pedestrian.
Everyone of us like King David,
Covets what we know pleases;
Things delightful to the eye
Become demands,
And with the arrogance of power,
Worth iconic conniving and killing for.
Our evolution hauls in traps built of past traditions,
Into futures we envision,
Things expected to change for the better at last,
But never do; for nothing can, when the same traps are set, or the same games are played
The same as before.
So this Christmas Eve may things be different.
May we accept the gift of new life with humbleness
And no qualms for the way our lives turned out,
Leave craving for gain and
Disappointment behind,
May our repetitions finally bring joy for the future given,
As we submit ourselves in the service of remission, remembering love is born to be shared,
And living in such divine company makes
Christmas Day every day.
THH
12-24-24
Thoughts Have Hands 