Believe the Dream (The Lament of Saint Nick)

Drifts snow upon the road - shines stars like diamond spark, above the sodium glow of streets - falls omnipresent dark. Blaze bright the window panes - translucent curtains drawn, curls smoke in charcoal twists - the long descent to dawn. Await the children there - quilted and cocooned, eyes closed in sleeping trust - on dreaming isles marooned. Faith no more lies pale - yet burns with love inflamed, fanned by the breath of hope - and innocence reclaimed. If only adult minds - that drain 'till they fall cold, could feel this dream again - turn rusted thoughts to gold. Then they would know full well - the love of ancient kings, the wonder and the grace - of joy in childlike things. Bright visitor returns - his yearly, ceaseless quest, with eyes of gleaming frost - and gifts of timelessness. In morning tide the eyes - of children hold his gleam and all things may be possible - if they believe the dream...