We thought trees could leap on the hill of circular hands,
We thought the breeze went to the holiday of silent symphony.
We thought words wore clothes, clothes of patience,
In the Christmas Chords of Unity.
We thought the moon was mother to the sun,
We thought the sun smiles to the star of stardom.
We thought the light were sisters of delight,
In the Christmas Chords of Purity.
We thought minds read books of Jesus,
We thought hearts compete with the acts—acts of reverence.
We thought eyes stand on the carpets of candles,
In the paradox pride of Christmas jealousy.
How would we leap on the light that shines on our mouth?
How would we tell the stories of the head of the breeze?
How would we share the clothes bought by patience?
She beckons, beckons—Oh! Christmas unity!
How would we hide in the mother sun that shines apartment with the moon?
How would we stay on the rhyme of this mystical smile of my brother, the Star?
What made my sister date delight at this derogatory snow-like hour?
She beckons, beckons—Oh, Christmas purity!
How can I shine my lap to the senses of this book that brightens Jesus?
How can I win the contest of reverence from the yellow box of pride?
How can my eyes grow in this candle of candles?
She beckons, beckons—Oh, Christmas jealousy!
Copyright@Emmanuel Chimezie
