Strange

My favorite time during the Christmas season is the silent afterglow — the quiet interlude after the Christmas Eve gathering, after the children (and grandchildren) have gone to bed in search of sugarplums and sweet Christmas dreams. Christmas Eve Mass is over, the pork pie and the homemade treats have been consumed, the television is off, and the fire has burned low, casting deep crimson shadows over the room — giving the softly glowing decorations and twinkling lights a new vibrancy and depth.

I gaze out the front window, and see the lights from our window reflected on the snow. Lights from neighbor's homes gleam through the dark and I know others are sharing the strange peace of late Christmas night.

My recliner beckons and I settle back to breathe in the subtle joy and silent peace of this holy night. My thoughts take flight and soar abroad on the winds of the night, under a canopy of stars above and lights below, adrift and borne aloft upon the peaceful silence of Christmas night.

Mick

Strange

Strange how my heart beats,

In time with twinkling Christmas lights.

Soft falling snow meets,

With brilliant beams in darkest nights.

Strange how my soul flies,

Abroad on wings of Christmas love.

Rapt as my heart cries,

Aloud to distant stars above.

Aloft on wings of gossamer and lace,

I fly in search of Christmas love and grace.

Strange how my thoughts fly,

Away on silver gilded wings -

Drift in the night sky,

To find His peace above all things.

As silently I plead with God above,

To shower us with Heaven's joyous love.

Strange how my tears glow,

And shine in joy with inner light,

For those I love now,

Asleep in peace on Christmas night.

Mick McKellar

November 2009