And holy, holy Christmas Day
One day less than a week away.
The nights are long and cold and drear
The days are short this time of year
And I am longing for the Spring
When grasses grow and songbirds sing.
And though Christmas means a lot to me
I’d much prefer, prefer to see
Wildflowers blooming in grassy leas
And glossy leaves adorning trees.
At Christmas Christians honour Jesus birth
The son of God who walked on Earth
He lived amongst us common men
And on a cross died for our sin.
What right have I to celebrate
The birth of one so pure and great
When I am full of selfish greed
And only think of my own need.
And in a World of so much mistrust
Christmas ought to belong to the just
And I for one don’t feel worthy to pray
In Jesus house on Christmas Day.
Yet even I can appreciate
The wonders that our God create
And in God and Nature I feel I see
Perhaps a common entity.
In Spring I see their miraculous power
In every blade of grass and flower
And hear their tender and mellow voice
When all of their little birds rejoice.
December and the weather cold
And old year getting very old
And housewife buying the Christmas tree
And thoughts of Springtime haunting me.

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