.
Blind Spirit of Christmas
.
Wandering about, I was looking
For this thing they called the Christmas Spirit.
Would I even be able to recognize it
Should I pass by it, or should I come near it?
I lost it quite a few years ago
In some box of lights, tinsel and ornaments,
Somewhere in an attic crawlway
With the decorations and bright merriments.
Maybe I dropped it ere a window
Displaying the sales items and the bargains;
Perhaps he needs a pair of gloves,
He'd look great in one of those cardigans.
Growing up, I'd heard the stories
That told us of peace on earth and good will.
I knew the spirit was out there.
I swore I'd find it and I wouldn't stop until.
Where is that Spirit of Christmas?
Not among the sales slips that I see littered
Or in the bags shoppers carry.
It's something else that has me embittered.
I turned the corner to the square
And came upon a man sitting on cardboard;
His sightless eyes not seeing any
Of the precious few coins that he had scored.
A pair of broken sunglasses lay
Next to him, stepped on by some passerby.
He held aloft a twenty dollar bill.
He said "I can't see her but I can hear her cry."
She lost her favorite Teddy bear.
I heard her crying, passing with her mother.
Can someone give this to her,
So that she can go in the shop to buy another?"
Her mother was touched by this,
And kindly declining she dropped a twenty
Into his can from the purse she held.
"It is you who is in need and we have plenty."
Was it a tear forming in my eye?
I then removed the sunglasses from my shirt
And touched him on his shoulder.
"The glare on the snow is bright and must hurt.
You surely need these more than I.
I could see upon his arms sores needing salve.
I doubted that he would seek care,
But I pulled out the only bill I happened to have.
"You are so kind," he said to me.
"No," I answered, "It is you that I must admire.
For you have in your heart
That which I have been seeking and so desire."
I walked away from the man
With far more than I'd had from the start.
I'd found the Spirit of Christmas
In a blind homeless man's eyes and heart.
Wandering about, I was looking
For this thing they called the Christmas Spirit.
Would I even be able to recognize it
Should I pass by it, or should I come near it?
I lost it quite a few years ago
In some box of lights, tinsel and ornaments,
Somewhere in an attic crawlway
With the decorations and bright merriments.
Maybe I dropped it ere a window
Displaying the sales items and the bargains;
Perhaps he needs a pair of gloves,
He'd look great in one of those cardigans.
Growing up, I'd heard the stories
That told us of peace on earth and good will.
I knew the spirit was out there.
I swore I'd find it and I wouldn't stop until.
Where is that Spirit of Christmas?
Not among the sales slips that I see littered
Or in the bags shoppers carry.
It's something else that has me embittered.
I turned the corner to the square
And came upon a man sitting on cardboard;
His sightless eyes not seeing any
Of the precious few coins that he had scored.
A pair of broken sunglasses lay
Next to him, stepped on by some passerby.
He held aloft a twenty dollar bill.
He said "I can't see her but I can hear her cry."
She lost her favorite Teddy bear.
I heard her crying, passing with her mother.
Can someone give this to her,
So that she can go in the shop to buy another?"
Her mother was touched by this,
And kindly declining she dropped a twenty
Into his can from the purse she held.
"It is you who is in need and we have plenty."
Was it a tear forming in my eye?
I then removed the sunglasses from my shirt
And touched him on his shoulder.
"The glare on the snow is bright and must hurt.
You surely need these more than I.
I could see upon his arms sores needing salve.
I doubted that he would seek care,
But I pulled out the only bill I happened to have.
"You are so kind," he said to me.
"No," I answered, "It is you that I must admire.
For you have in your heart
That which I have been seeking and so desire."
I walked away from the man
With far more than I'd had from the start.
I'd found the Spirit of Christmas
In a blind homeless man's eyes and heart.
No.457
3 comments:
Okay, NOW I'm starting to feel the Christmas spirit a little bit. :) *hug*
Sweetie, you never lost your Christmas spirit. I don't believe that for a minute :)
misplaced - MAYBE - but we all do THAT. At least you found it again.
Nice poem.
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