Believe the Dream (The Lament of Saint Nick)
Drifts snow upon the road - shines stars like diamond spark,
above the sodium glow of streets - falls omnipresent dark.
Blaze bright the window panes - translucent curtains drawn,
curls smoke in charcoal twists - the long descent to dawn.
Await the children there - quilted and cocooned,
eyes closed in sleeping trust - on dreaming isles marooned.
Faith no more lies pale - yet burns with love inflamed,
fanned by the breath of hope - and innocence reclaimed.
If only adult minds - that drain 'till they fall cold,
could feel this dream again - turn rusted thoughts to gold.
Then they would know full well - the love of ancient kings,
the wonder and the grace - of joy in childlike things.
Bright visitor returns - his yearly, ceaseless quest,
with eyes of gleaming frost - and gifts of timelessness.
In morning tide the eyes - of children hold his gleam
and all things may be possible - if they believe the dream...
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