I'm looking at a Christmas tree there standing on the floor,
The forest was its home before it entered my front door.
It was a green vivacity to whiteness on the ground,
To all the wintering forest life asleep there all around.
And as one after other looks and ponders on the sight,
We see the branches there are dressed the better to invite.
The lights alit, the tinsel and the crystal spheres arrayed,
The ornaments of decorative art are so displayed.
A star is set atop, perhaps one taken from the sky;
So many stars up there that one will not be missed on high.
And this star is observed by everyone who comes this way,
Each person with a notion of just what it might portray:
A symbol, metaphor, or other synonym for sign,
Of wishfulness for some bright hope to one and all benign.
Christmas Tree · Poems