Women Wordsmiths And Christmas By Pankhuri Sinha

December, the oldest month
of the year, is the youngest one, really and truly!
The month of the birth
Of christ the saviour
Who could die
For the sins of man
And rise again!
Reinstating our faith in miracles!
At a time, when all faith
In all things holy
Is shaken and questioned
December brings the promise of easter
And lilies blooming !
You might doubt Gabriele ‘s message
And Mary ‘s virginity
And the stars guiding the path of the wise men
But the hymn about the silent, bright night
Is too beautiful
To be put to trial
And, a note comes floating
‘Jesus was a carpenter’
May he build us all
Doors and windows
For eager, peeping souls
To venture out in world
At whim and desire!
May it be a white christmas
In the snow prone regions
Of this world ! Shouting over global warming ,
Climate change and not listening to a word of its own voice!
And for us, the sun worshipping cult
May there be a little less fog
A little less mist
For sunshine in december
Is the most glorious!
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