It's The Time

A gelid zephyr swept in through my silent window;

Fierceness personified, it doused the boiling fire inside.

The harshness of the wintry air had arrived,

And with it, the bells of Christmas.

Yes. It’s Christmas time all over again. Mistletoe, confetti? Not quite. On the other side of the Earth, the Kiwis are enjoying a hot winter and the Kangaroos are celebrating Christmas amid their desert. It seems we are lucky enough.

Festooned streets and lively alleys,

Replete with the hubbub of busy mortals,

And shopping sprees of fervent families:

It’s the time of Christ.

There was once an interesting story about a goldsmith who wanted to sell a gold coin at an extortionate price as an antique with 5000 B.C. inscribed on it. The customer held it, then returned it. At that time, Before Christ and Anno Domini hadn’t been known. The goldsmith was a downright mountebank. Christ’s birth is so marked as the interface between them. The year Zero maybe?

An unsung hero lies behind us,

Shown the world the same day as Christ,

Who showed the world The Light,

Is none other than Sir Isaac Newton.

Merry Christmas and A Very Happy New Year to all my readers!

A Conclusive Note:

Of conquered hearts and despondent souls,

Of bloomed flowers and unborn grass;

Amid the everlasting green of life,

Amid the hindering dust of the eyes,

There was something missing.

‘Scrumptious’ and others,

Had blown away the shadows of life,

Had shown the path to eternal bliss.

But perhaps it’s not ‘eternal’.

In an away land,

When plants similar to my tree behold me,

I cling to its trunk, not letting it go.

But with a jerk ahead, and with a driving force,

I shall bolster Winter’s Wind,

And it shall drop off all the dust that it carries,

And I shall rejoice like the flowers of Spring.