As winter’s shadows deepen, and the nights grow cold and long,
We pierce the dark with festive lights and cheer our hearts with joyful song;
Our souls are warmed with laughter, and the love of friends and kin,
And with the blessings in our homes, we ease the cares that dwell within.
But winter’s shadows, even so, make claim upon the brightest times,
And frigid air can breach the seals of rooms that hold the warmest climes;
We strive to raise a bulwark for the treasures of our hearts,
But dark does not respect our walls, and mocks the efforts of our arts.
Yet winter’s shadows cannot match the deathly dark of sin,
And human effort sheds no warmth upon the aching cold within …
So Christ was born in Bethlehem, the Lord of love and light,
To cast away our shadows and destroy our hopeless night.
Copyright © 2019 David B. Hawthorne