Whispers Of Christmas Poem by Richard Weissman

A chilling frost has turned the eve white,
As Whispers of Christmas fill stockings this night,
Ol' bearded Saint Nick to chimneys far wide,
While parents trim nobles with care and meek pride.
 
The carolers this Merry ever onward doth sing,
Of glory to Jesus, the ageless Child-King,
For though so many are hungered and cold,
The Whispers of Christmas, of joy still unfold.
 
And even midst bleakness of want and of shame,
The mystery of love is our birthright to claim.
Chant Whispers to the nations each day, every year,
For through them the essence of truth shall appear,
That love is the meaning, the way and the light,
Long as Whispers of Christmas like stars paint the night.

(Christmas Eve,1993)