All winters are cold but not all are dark,
dark as dark as coal and ash.
Not even snow can make white
soiled footprints on the earth
guilt-stained palms, conscience seared.
Happy partings never shadow
looming conflict close at hand,
close by little, folded hands:
hands raised up to plea,
hands raised up for comfort,
comfort and joy.
They were anxious souls who waited by,
watched and waited for the dawn,
the morning star to wisdom guide.
Some relieved wrapped up--
not gifts of candy, toy, or fun--
but grief stricken children.
Others took to themselves comfortless breath
caught in the throat. Caught,
unuttered cry, unending cry.
To empty beds and unwrapped gifts
let winter's dark consume all light.
No star to go by.
Will sadness reign merry, cast all hope
beneath the veil of empty rooms,
little shoes and winter caps,
mar the Christmas yuletide in forever
Not so! For Herods near and far stretch out
with evil might and fall.
Fail and fall.
While rising high the resurrection
light a throne ascends
to highest heaven.
Welcomes little children,
"Come unto me."
'Till all undone are worthless deeds,
'till children play once more,
'till thorn-infected ground life pleads
on every human shore.
To the memory of Daniel, Rachel, Olivia, Charlotte, Josephine, Ana, Dylan, Dawn, Madeline, Catherine, Chase, Jesse, James, Grace, Anne Marie, Emilie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Jessica, Avielle, Lauren, Mary, Victoria, Benjamin, Allison. These are the victims of a fool unworthy to be named: cast down in youth, raised up in hope.