Posts
Some went for tinsel and twinkling stars;
we went for song.
We celebrated what we'd been taught:
a little Lord Jesus
glory streaming
no crib for a bed
shepherds tending
holy nights
three kings
a star in the East.
We knew the drill.
Still children, we sang out
in Latin or English,
(Adeste or O come),
the words less important
than the occasions
for familiar harmony.
We sang.
Five to a car, six to a car,
we canvassed the town,
our carols a gift
to neighbours and friends.
We sang infants and mangers
baby born in December
flocks by night
all is calm, all is bright
and joy, joy, joy to the world.
Sang into the crisp clear air
of dark Indiana winter.
Some go for tinsel and twinkling lights,
but we went for song.
Two carloads, two families,
two fathers driving,
we crisscrossed the town
and spilled out onto snowy sidewalks.
We stood in two rows
before neighbours
belting out harmonies.
Innocents, sure of our goodness,
we sang in the solstice
pure song pouring from our
earnest and fervent pubescent hearts.
Some go for tinsel and twinkling lights
but we went for song.
Our four parts of harmony
rang at each door
and neighbours, cherished,
beamed in doorways to hear
our voices together once more.
When we were blessed with a snowfall,
tiny ice butterflies drifted onto our hats.
We opened our throats in frigid air
and warm golden melody flowed
into the ether.
Some go for tinsel and twinkling lights.
For us it was
always
all about song.
No comments:
Post a Comment