The dismal reality of my job in the season of joy. . .

Where is light -

A child peeking through the curtain

From backstage -

Fires rage,

Famines drape themselves,

Across the land,

Disease feasts on the innocent,

Arrogance and ingnorance -

Those insidious brothers –

Lurking beneath the shadows of the moon

And doubt.

Mother and father belie the hollow grief

As they gasp to make their cries heard

From the bottomless bottomness

Of hopelessness

Yet feign confidence for their children

From their driveway of ashes, smoke and tears

The plate of dust and emptiness

The bed of medicine and death.

Where is light

That beaming smile

That infant's giggle

The warmth of spirits embracing

A chuckle amongst strangers.