KATEMAS IN DECEMBER

[KateKnight@aol.com]

                  Rain rode before the wind like silver tears
                  falling down the porcelain face of the world
                  along the snow-swept avenues of the city
                  washing smiles from holiday-weary children
                  yawning and sighing their way to early bed.

                  Moonlight stole shadows from the night
                  and Christmas Eve settled like fog over
                  the icy yards, the glittering stone steps
                  of every home and each silent cathedral
                  where prayers keep the angels company.

                  Into this serenity arrived a heavenly music 
                  drifting in on a gentle, magic midnight wind
                  as a warm breath from mother to her child
                  or the voice of reason in a troubled mind,
                  perfect melody to ease the season's chill.

                  How to describe such a sublime sound,
                  a vocal poetry fit for spirits and mortals
                  celebrating the birth of a certain savior,
                  or the sweet call of a Siren in the sky 
                  showing the way to a more blessed isle?

                  And so the faithful awake, throw open
                  their frosty windows to the miracle night
                  and welcome the voice of their goddess  
                  out of the still darkness and bitter cold
                  into the warm, devoted heart of home. 

                  Smiles cascade across a breaking dawn,
                  our Lady enchants even the dark with song.