Snow Is Just the Icing on the Cake

Snow is just the icing on the cake.
Even as the Earth begins to warm,
And we reduce our footprints for its sake,
So will light from dark again be born.
Old customs, rooted deeply in the heart,
Now live on as atmospheric joy.
'Mid pines or palms, mince pie or mango tart,
Seasonal displays our spirits buoy.
Greetings, then, and hopes for the new year,
Regardless of the temperature outside!
Each gift of time is cause enough for cheer;
Each moment yet unlived a blushing bride.
Though the world be dark and warming fast,
In season's joy is something that will last.
Nor will we soon forget to celebrate
Grace so bountiful or gifts so great,
Sensing well the fortune of our fate.
So Do We Mark the Turning of the Light
So do we mark the turning of the light,
Each turning imperceptibly within,
As dawn comes to the coldest depths of night,
Sweet silver hint that day will soon begin.
Our darkest hours are those of greatest cheer,
Nor need we faith to feel the moment's grace,
Still holy, though the mechanism's clear,
Gift of time transcending time and place.
Reason sees no reason for rebirth:
Each moment is an equal place to start.
Even so, we recognize its worth:
The ritual redemption of the heart.
In us there yet remains the ancient awe,
Now overlaid with litany and law,
Grateful to the gods for seasons sure,
Sustained by love unseen and worship pure.
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