This Christmas is very different
from other past Yule seasons: less cheer,
more grief welcoming uncertainty;
and unless we are disheartened in spirit,
nothing will grant us hope to steer
out ship into a tumultuous ocean of terrifying fear,
and take it to the shore of calmness and safety...
until then we must pray and stay afloat diligently.
Distance isolates us, not letting us feeling closeness,
but the warmth of thought will crackle more than logs
that roast chestnuts and enlighten unmerry souls;
no sad carols to deepen sadness,
no tears from cheeks to spread total gloom,
only joyful days of endless hugs
for ourselves and others fighting foes.
We'll finally see cherry trees and flowers bloom,
and that unborn child in a mother's womb
will see sunlight and not be laid in a tomb.
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