Christmas Poem 2018. Because every year I write a holiday poem. This year you have several choices about how to hear-and-see-and-feel it.
- Listen to a recording I made, for those who find it especially enjoyable to hear the poetry read by the author. (Maybe this amps up the personal growth intended.)
- Read it. Since you can view the full text below.
- Run away screaming. An unlikely option, I hope. But really you have my sympathy if you’ve never found your way into liking poems.
- Add a poem of your own, using the COMMENT boxes below. Sometimes it’s only after adding your own contribution, only then, it’s possible to enjoy someone else’s.
- Read it yourself, and make a video or audio recording. Link to it in a COMMENT. Could be fun!!! Over at YouTube, someone once made a beautiful recording of the poem that you can find now at the start of “The Master Empath.” Such an unexpected treat. Beautifully done! Sadly, I just tried to find it without success, but it lives in my heart. Poetry has a way of doing that….
My Christmas Poem 2018. All Ready for You to HEAR.
This recording is here.
And for you who prefer reading directly, so you can add your own voice….
My Christmas Poem 2018. Ready for You to READ.
What If Your Light Mattered?
by Rose Rosetree
Holiday pressures told us to buy, buy, buy.
While holiday ads practically screamed at us, Feel joy. You must. ‘Tis the season.
Shop here, ‘cause we’ve got the best and the brightest,
And all of the most spectacular bargains.”
Yet none of this had a thing to do
with the light, the light that really mattered.
Because there’s a light within you that no one else sees
Not a single person, except for those who also love that kind of light:
A holy light within that spreads joy
And has no talent whatsoever
What if, at the end of this lifetime, each of us will arrive at heaven
quite empty handed?
Serenely blind to all the bling,
Comfortably deaf to all shows of faith;
Altogether forgetting whatever didn’t turn out to really matter.
Instead remembering only three things:
The lessons we learned
How love and truth woke us up,
And finally, how we used the lantern that holds our light, the lantern called “Choosing.”
What if, in the end, all we carried was our own light,
Kindled by the good we did when nobody else was watching,
Plus extra light that came from grace, or from seeking, or surrendering.
What if all we carried within us was that light of our own
Amplified by a perfect recollection, with the sweetest safekeeping,
Of every person we met who carried light too?
Imagine, their human faces erased; their money and shiny clothing all washed away,
Until all that remained was how they carried their light, and shared it:
Listening to us, seeing us, and maybe singing within:
O Holy Night. And O, Holy Day.
What if that light mattered?
What if that light was all that mattered?