This poem is dedicated to children the world over; to all the children in my family; to my great niece, Neve, to my grandchildren: Jessica, for whom it was originally composed two years ago, but particularly for my grandson, Leo, and to all babies, for whom this is their First Christmas.
It’s white with snow and all is bright
on Christmas night. An image of your little face,
framed in elfin hat, as your eyes, open wide,
reflect the twinkles of a tree-borne star.
In awe we are, in awe you are
at your first site of wonder, magic, mystery.
It swells the very hardest heart
to see the perfect innocence that carries
all our fears and dreams and marries
them to faith and hope and charity
and love, that many fingered hand,
provides and guides you toward your history.
A very Happy Christmas, little life.
May all this wonder, all that’s truly good,
be with you forever and, without strife,
may love, not things, sustain you, as it should
provide the fuel, the fire inside slowly to burn
throughout your life, empowering you
To give abundantly in turn.
© 2009 John Anstie
(Read the commentary on this poem)