December Breeze Poem by J T Jayasingh

The cool December breeze
Rubbed the shrubs, streams, twigs,
The velvet skin of beauty queens
And even the dirty children of slums.
Every atom of the world wore
A peculiar charm, a glory
In my childhood.

Stars, carols, colorful lights,
Songs, balloons, Santaclauses,
Candles, cakes, cribs,
Dangling church bells,
Illuminated city shops,
Shopping of new clothes
And colorful greeting cards
All changed our moods.

While decorating our roof
With cute blinking bulbs,
I never knew
There were roofless mendicants,
Millions in my land.

Never I dreamed
My lovely little lamb
Would be tortured and killed
On the beautiful Christmas eve.

Only later in TV
I witnessed
Skeleton Kenyan children
Fought for clay cakes and die
When I had surplus plum cakes
To feed my Pomeranian at home.

Wearing brand new dresses
Of orange, azure and white,
We went
To the beautifully lit churches
We saw
The rich tree with candles and gifts,
Angelic children singing carols,
The child in golden velvet clothes
And devotees kneeling under it.

Alas! Only later
A vagabond messenger said
We didn’t meet him there,
Jesus of Nazareth,
For he would sing with
The sinners in the streets,
Dine with the skeleton children
In the suburban slums,
And sleep with roofless outcasts
In the perilous wilderness.

Even now as usual
The cool December breeze
Rub the shrubs, streams, twigs…
There are stars, carols, gifts…
But will they reach the slums,
The outcasts, the wilderness
Where he is, Jesus of Nazareth?

J T Jayasingh