It’s over! Slipping past us quietly,

Christmas: no tree, no burden of wrapped gifts

no children’s tears, nor shirty adults miffed

and just a little sorrow privately

And poof! it’s gone, except the crèche tells all;

its silent figures gaze upon the manger

three kings approach, being warned of Herod’s danger;

unseen, a revolution’s brewing in a stall.

We hurtle towards the year that is not new,

what was begun, unfinished, is extolled

one’s best intentions largely uncontrolled

and horrors of the year, up for review

Unnoticed, now the reign of God is here!

The rule of love will best the rule of fear.