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Christmas is a holiday for friends, However they may be, or not, related. Remember that the three wise kings were strangers In search of one remote, uncanny dream. So may we all be far more than we seem, Together bound for dark and haunting changes, More lovely for the loves we have created Along the lonely paths from means to ends, Stumbling towards that star of Bethlehem Christmas is a time of little time. How we get there is a mystery. Racing madly mall-to-mall, we climb Into fields of sunlit harmony. Shopping, cooking, clearing walks and yards, Trimming house and tree while working, too; Making phone calls, wrapping, writing cards, As all worn out we do what we must do So that this day of joy might joy renew Christmas really isn't about toys, However much we love them, young and old. Reductions in the fat of Christmas day In time restore its vigor and its health. So let us not display our absent wealth, Though children should have ample chance to play. More sweet and joyous mu