I looked past the window pane and saw the gray bleak sky,

and felt the chill left in the house where all the quiet abides.

I’m not sure which bird I heard but off in distance it sings,450c8ca1-e7b9-43e3-ad55-e1a7474cf539

And I listen until the quiet resumes, then hear him once again.

Ice has passed and snow’s to come, blanketing frozen ground,

as I walked among the woods a breaking crunching sound

of frozen earth reminds me of the labored year has passed.

We look for good news to come, and hope that will surpass.

This hope was birthed among the timbers and quiet baby born,

yet the world goes on the same, even after Christmas morn.

Listen, as the year ends, Father times bids us farewell,

while the story remains anew among the promised tale

of birth and baby, poverty persist and still it overcomes,

rage and war and even death as life brought by a son.

Copyrighted:  CMM  2008