| CANDLES DANCE ON THEIR MENORAH | | | | Open, then, your heart to dark December; |
| Candles dance on their menorah, | | | | Listen to the silent turn of time. |
| Happy to be burning bright! | | | | Infinity is scattered into embers; |
| All the children dance the hora, | | | | Deep within the void the remnants shine, |
| Nimbly leaping with delight | | | | As distant and as cold as you remember. |
| Understand the miracle | | | | Yet here, near zero, starts the upward climb, |
| Kindled by a match that sings, | | | | Sensing the sweet downward days of summer. |
| A cantor with his canticle, | | | | THE WIND BRINGS DOWN ITS ICY LOAD |
| Here to give the moment wings. | | | | The wind brings down its icy load; |
| CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN THE GLOW OF | | | | Curtains close across the sky. |
| CHRISTMAS | | | | Travelers shudder on the road: |
| Can anyone explain the glow of Christmas? | | | | There will be shelter by-and-by. |
| Holidays are candles in the night. | | | | All one has seen and one has sown |
| Rebirth comes from family and friends | | | | Now feeds the feasts of fantasy. |
| In one bright blur of food and talk that ends | | | | Merriment goes on within; |
| Still burning as a peaceful inner light. | | | | Trees and candles dance with light. |
| There is no way to substitute for Christmas. | | | | Without, the world is grey and grim; |
| Miss it and no circumstance feels right. | | | | Within the house, all is bright. |
| All my heart's with you, yet I must miss this | | | | How might one stand against the wind |
| Season thick with love and rich delight. | | | | But with the joy one brings to it? |
| YOU'RE LIKE MUSIC PLAYING IN MY HEAD | | | | The window hints of happiness; |
| You're like music playing in my head | | | | The wanderer walks quickly past. |
| Everywhere I go from day to day. | | | | The week-old ice is treacherous; |
| I try a door and think of you instead, | | | | The snow is falling thick and fast. |
| Not knowing where I am or what I'll say. | | | | Shelter cannot be a place |
| I live in a perpetual embrace, | | | | For those whose spirits will not rest. |
| Hugging the sweet thought that you are mine. | | | | Bells ring through the chilly air; |
| Walking through a park I touch your face, | | | | People purchase gifts on time. |
| Not caring if there's rain or bright sunshine. | | | | Windows, doorways, front yards bear |
| The cause must be, of course, our love is new; | | | | Of inner truth the outward sign: |
| It can't go on like this for years and years. | | | | Love beneath commercial cheer; |
| I must take note of other things than you | | | | Loneliness decked out in din. |
| And clear my head of smiles and grateful tears. | | | | The season freezes all but love; |
| Yet such talk seems fantasy to me: | | | | Winter grips the waterways. |
| The world's the dream, and you reality. | | | | Upon white meadows nothing moves; |
| HOW LONG CAN WE REMEMBER AN EVENT | | | | Life sleeps through the nights and days. |
| How long can we remember an event, | | | | O love! At once both flame and fuel, |
| A miracle long since become a story | | | | Light well what meets the inner gaze! |
| Nor can we see what it might represent | | | | HOPE IS OFTEN RENTED BY THE YEAR |
| Unless we share a shadow of its glory. | | | | Hope is often rented by the year. |
| Knowledge is no substitute for faith | | | | A ceremony helps ensure the signing. |
| Kindling in the heart what else is fashion. | | | | People like transitions to be clear, |
| A fuel-less flame is nothing but a wraith, | | | | Preferably at moments when they're dining. |
| However wrought, if unsustained by passion. | | | | Yet as a rental flat can be a home, |
| HERE IS COMMON CAUSE FOR CELEBRATION | | | | No one wants to terminate this lease. |
| Here is common cause for celebration | | | | Each thinks hope too poor a risk to own |
| As light lengthens, harbinger of spring. | | | | While needing its bright arc for inner peace. |
| Perhaps the cold will be of long duration: | | | | Years therefore start with hope again renewed |
| Patience, for you know what time will bring. | | | | Even as the old year's wishes die. |
| Yearning is the partner of sensation, | | | | After all the books have been reviewed, |
| Heightening the glory of the thing. | | | | Ring in the New Year!--with a gentle sigh. |