Another year, and He has not returned.
The baubles are spun, presents delivered,
the manger dusted, animals arrayed
for one more party, and so we wait, frayed
ends of fairy lights blink on familiar
trees, what new xmas blessing holds us dear
as we hark the herald on silent nights,
Bethlehem a soft dance on tongues, a flight
of wise men under starsong. As shepherds
shuffle to angels singing praise, the world
pops bubbly cheer, worrying in another
year, raising pagan prayers to remember
echoes of a kingdom built on promise;
He will return on a holy night’s kiss.
