It's Christmas. So I look in windows to see symbols of the season; lights and a reason for people to keep believing in their fellow man. But the hand of God seems to have abandoned the homes left in shambles, ample room for our scandals to be snuffed like the light of a candle if only we'd take up our mantles, the montra of Handel's messiah. We are the pariah, waiting to expire, letting the fire die despite being in dire need of escaping the mire. The muck and the mud that weighs, an inescapable maze, it's the haze that causes malaise and dismay by stripping us of our right to be amazed. Thine own self be praised! Our selfish ways distract us from this Saint's day, led astray by naivete that wears away and causes decay.
It's a good world with a good word that deserves to be heard. It's pearls of wisdom scattered by birds, out in the open, absurd that none will carry them to term. Even the virgin Mary finds reason to be merry and bright, the scenario is clear; do not be wary, wait not for actuaries whose calculations say "tarry rash wanton!" Don't be brash, rather passionate. Christmas is gone in a flash so act unabashedly. Let your spirit be done up with such panache that none can help but stop as they pass to offer tidings of good cheer. This time of year is one to hold dear, we're in this life together so have no fear. Adhere not to the jeers of others but cheer that your cavalier heart may persevere in times of severity. Your sincerity will go far. It's a rarity you know, days like these lack the clarity of an era gone by.
We are each odd, our parity the same, the eternal verity is simply the similarities between us. Red blood is our familiarity, a filial trait passed on to our posterity. So choose your words carefully, act for the prosperity of your brothers and sisters. Let your charity flow without fear of heresy, even the child born this morn grew to face disparity. Merrily double down on your irregularities in opposition to the barbarity of those whom cast the first stone. Austerity will get you nowhere so let it be. Voluntarily submit to the therapy this season can provide. Abide your neighbor. Push aside the faults that divide, silence the mouth that derides and step outside your comfort zone to preside over a joyous heart that guides your cousins to feel pride for one another. Worldwide the tides of faith are bona fide. This day we cry out that none should be astride from their kin, not to be beside themselves but tied to the love of Christmas. What shall betide those whom have died is no mystery, let the pain subside, they are with the Herald angels.
This year we will shut out nothing, be trusting. It is the season of immortal hope, not smoke and mirrors. It is the birthday of immortal mercy so trade earthly pleasures for heavenly courtesies to prevent the persecution of others who may be different than you. See your love through, act outside the confines of the pew, substitute honor in lieu of greed, let your needs be to do good deeds. Work hard to be a leader, to feed with food kneaded by thine own hands. You are asked to accede to the throne of divinity, concede that you don't know everything while accepting the decree that people are to be given love from sea to shining sea and treated equally despite looking differently or speaking in a foreign tongue. Unsung heroes unite! Be young at heart and drink the joyous light of the sun, you'll never find a spirit more potent. Present a cogent way of life. Foment in glad tidings and good omens, make them a component of every day. Like a poet writing prose, pen a sonnet to those who have little more than the clothes on their backs. Don't presuppose the throes of those less fortunate have been eliminated until the two of you are juxtaposed.
On this day none shall be discriminated. Let the pain of suffering be mitigated and inundate others with warmth. Go, Christmas henceforth is about the birth of love and the myriad mirth found under a tree. So it is written, so let it be; Peace on earth, good will toward thee.