Christmas, Made Of Awesome Poem by David Welch

Christmas, Made Of Awesome



Every year someone is always expressing
that Christmas is ‘imperialist' and ‘oppressing'
to people not of the Christian faith,
That it's unfairly taken Soltice's place,
that the historical Jesus was not born
in the last months per Holiday norms,
say ‘Merry Christmas, ' and they get out of joint,
methinks such folks are missing the point.

Christ's date-of-birth is a mere detail,
that he was born at all is what folks hail,
and the fact that Christmas comes near solstice day,
has more to do with defying the gray
that settles in with winter's advance.
We need a celebration for northern man,
be it Saturnalia, Chanukah, or Christmastide,
it brightens hearts and widens eyes,
a counter to the long, long dark,
call it whatever, it still hits the mark.
And as for Christ being divine,
it does not exclude other from Christmas time,
the secular joys run just as thick
to bring a thrill to even agnostics.
Despite all the cold, and fading sun,
Christmas, my friend, is made of awesome.

Endless strings of colored lights,
or the ‘classy' sets made of all white,
wreaths fashioned from evergreens,
watering your indoor pine tree,
ugly sweaters of garish make,
light-up reindeer held down by stakes,
a jolly, fat man comes bearing gifts
and never leaves the kids short-shrift.
Deer that fly and one that glows,
woolen warmth of winter clothes,
fires roaring, all bright and tall,
getting caught under a kissing ball,
roving hordes of caroling kids,
endless cookies with decorative lids,
miniature villages in window sills,
pretending that you wish none ill-will,
Bah-Humbug when you're not feeling it,
whisky and egg-nog to become festive,
Dickens stories known by heart,
piles of candy, chocolates, and tarts,
songs beautiful, sung in sincere joy,
by big church choirs, fully deployed,
the sacred tunes of man's devotion,
and the novelties for humor's quotient,
they soothe and put a soul at ease,
except that one about the donkey…
a tree illuminated, decked out in glory,
reading the kids classic Christmas stories,
sledding at the old town park,
ribbon candy and cinnamon bark,
stockings, tinsel, garlands, and gifts,
visiting family…if just for a bit.
Advents wreaths with candle flames,
those calendars with tabs for each day,
a few days off for all the nation,
TV specials made with Claymation,
tales of ancients times of yore,
filled with endless Holiday lore.

So for all the whining and the stress
I think we should agree it's for the best,
from aged souls down to little ones,
Christmas, it seems, is made of awesome.

Saturday, September 22, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: celebration,christmas,holiday,rhyme,tradition
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