This year, we strain to hear the silver bells
Over dark waves of misfortune whipped into frenzy by the Martian winds
With wave after wave of passions seeking martyred eternal dates,
How does one find peace?
Maybe, you search not in Macy’s, Target, Wal-Mart or Neiman Marcus
Or the nooks and crannies of each shopping mall or e-com site,
But rather a snow covered field in
Where Tommy and Fritz on one cold 1914 Christmas Eve day
Left the security of a trench
To use their fingers to shake hands,
Not to pull triggers,
To use their voices, not to bark commands,
But to sing softly….
Silent Night, Heil’ge Nacht, Alles schlaft, all is bright,
To exchange gifts instead of shells,
To play soccer instead of the losing game of war,
To score the goal of peace.
If they could, so can we.
Maybe not for a lifetime,
But at least for more than one day
With the lifeboat filled with love, peace, and tolerance,
Rowing easily to the tranquil shore
And the soft refrain…..
Peace on Earth, Goodwill to Men.
MICHAEL P. RIDLEY AKA THE ALASKANPOET
© December 6, 2001
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