Christmas Is Poem by Jenny Kalahar

Crisp as new snow on worn, leaning fence posts on a moonlit night
Soft as the woolen blanket wound around a baby held by carolers
Urgent as the hug between sisters long parted as one steps through an airport crowd
Smooth as hot chocolate when its temperature barely cools enough
Sweet as the arm that slips through yours
when you thought you were going to be alone again, but aren't
Distant as the choir's strains of Silent Night heard on a frosted hill at midnight
Grateful as the forgotten man seated at the head of a shelter's dinner table
Wise as the child who is now old enough to understand what Christmas truly means
Earnest as the son who only wants some nice gift for his parents this year
Sober as the struggling husband who sells his few spare hours for extra money
Nimble as the fingers sewing, knitting, weaving in the firelight
Hopeful as the girl helping for the first time to trim the tree
Sharp as pine needles stuck in little kids' socks
Risen as the breads and rolls and warmth from mother's oven
Steady as the hands that hold the reigns on a horse-drawn sleigh
Laden as the bushes in their heavy gowns of snow, kneeling down to pray
Fast as little feet on the staircase, rushing to the tree
Eager as the fingers reaching up for morning hugs
Long as lingering dinners, long as stocking caps
Long as hockey sticks, as candy canes in sleepy lips
Satisfied as the weary mother when her final dish is washed
Peaceful as a sighing dog when the night is quiet at last
And timeless as the golden starlight that climbs through bedroom windows