Some would sing a melancholy song
Even at this festive time of year.
After all, the frigid nights are long,
Sinking into daylight, harsh and drear.
O Earth, why do you lean away from joy?
Night rules the North, nor does the South long savor
Sunlight, as its dreams will hearts destroy,
Granting only longing for their labor.
Remember, then, that winter is a gift,
Even at this nadir of its night,
Even as the cold, white whispers drift,
Tailing into long, thin wisps of light.
In every moment everything exists,
Nor ought the mind rail, though the heart resists.
Grace is one, as life and death are one.
So sing of beauty till the song is done.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.