• The sky grows its colors when dawn begins each day,
    Then the abyss above us turns a light blue in a significant way.
    The day will grow old as the evening awakens,
    The chill will push the chimes, it being shaken.
    People by grocery stores will ring their Salvation Army bells,
    The ringing and the chiming will seem to last forever,
    Ending never, not until the sky grows a deep, dark blue,
    A signal for curfews of Me and You.
    Then, when all in bed, hours within our sleep,
    The nighttime sky will go dimmer and away it will creep.
    Then the beaming sun climbs above the hill as Dawn's mark flashes across the sky,
    People getting up, stretching with a half-conscious sigh,
    We look out the window at the silver ground, admiring the scenery stronger than ever without wondering why.
    We know why we love today especially,
    Why the snow looks cleaner,
    The branches look fuller of life than ever, even with their bare branches,
    And why the sky looks clearer.
    We turn around the corner of the room and sit beside our Christmas Tree, younger siblings already up and opening gifts.
    Today is Christmas, and that is why.
    That is why the day hangs jubilance in the air like ornaments hang on a tree.
    That is why the holly feeling lingers within You and Me.
    That is why we have Christmas.
    We have Christmas for this.