December

A little girl is singing for the faithful to come ye
Joyful and triumphant, a song she loves,
And also the partridge in a pear tree
And the golden rings and the turtle doves.
In the dark streets, red lights and green and blue
Where the faithful live, some joyful, some troubled,
Enduring the food and also the flu,
Taking the garbage out and keeping the sidewalks shoveled.
Not much triumph going on here -- and yet
There is much we do not understand.
And my hopes and fears are met
In this small singer holding my hand.
        Onward we go, faithfully, into the dark
        And are there angels singing overhead? Hark.

Gary Johnson, published online by The Writer's Almanac (December 22, 2011)