Hollyday

And has it been two thousand years-- That one eternal Gift bestowed To calm the fury of our fears-- To bear for each a mental load? Yet, in this frail, restrictive skin That each must shelter from the cold Of winter death, inclement men-- We need a time to be retold. We need to insulate from ice By donning fantasies of mirth. We need to feel our lives suffice By wearing ritual rebirth. With euphemistic evergreen, With hope of peace hung on a tree, We warm our pagan needs to mean The heart of Christian mystery.