Narrator: ‘Twas the day before Christmas. At early morning rise, the town started to come awake by
The lighting of the skies. And the snow began to fall like soft cotton balls from the sky. The mood of morning entered in and opened the poets’ eyes.
Chorus: “Hark how the bells, sweet silver bells all seem to say blow cares away. Christmas is here
bringing good cheer to young and old. Meek and the bold.” ( Mykola Dmytrovych Leontovych)
Christopher Davies : In the morning, too early , the bus’s gentle rhythm woke me up.
Joy Kilmer : ” The little twittering birds laugh in his way and poise triumphant on his shining arm.”
Carniz Fatema : “ Snow is falling. What a beautiful sight Snow is falling. It sparkles in the light”
Gwendolyn Brooks: “Even if you are not ready for day it cannot always be night”
Chorus: ” the rose says “Kiss me, please,” ‘Tis morning, ’tis morning” (Paul Lawrence Dunbar). Time to
wake up and prepare. It’s t he last day before the day that God made to celebrate the birth of
Allan Ginsberg: “We wake up electrified out of the coma by our own souls’ airplanes roaring.”
Rita Dove: I woke and found myself alone, in darkness and in chains.”
Carniz Fatema: “It’s time to celebrate. . . It’s a special day.”
Chorus: “Come, Love, and we together sing, “‘Tis morning, ’tis morning” (Paul Lawrence Dunbar).
Laura Jackson: “A blankness fallen on images of understanding. [We need a tree].”
Chorus: “I’ve got work to do. I got work to do. I got work to do. I got a job sugar” (Isely Brothers).
Mary Oliver: “The sun and the clear pebbles of rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies
and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers.”
Crystal Cummings: “Songs of bacon sizzle in the air”
E.. Cummings: “Freedom is breakfast food!”
Dorothy Parker: “Forget the way of tears you might as well live [the day]!”
Rita Dove: “the opportunities are golden dresses in a nutshell”
Donna Levine: “One morning you will awake to find that you are the person you dreamed of, doing what
you wanted to do. Simply because you had the courage to believe in your potential and hold on to your dream.”
Chorus: Don’t let this day of celebration pass you by without even a single smile. For the energy it take
to frown can’t compare to the joy of the bright sunshine. It’s Christmas time. Let’s enjoy it!
Louis Bogan: “the sighs hang in the trees.”
Chorus: “[When care is pressing you down a bit and you want to smile but you have to sigh] rest if you
must, but don’t quit” – (unknown).
Narrator: The sky rained cotton candy. The day grew mature. The sun gained altitude and darkened its
yellow, shining its light on the white clothed branches and over rainbow leaves. The grand adventure was to get through this Christmas Eve day of work and all else, and to simply be.
Robert Hayden: It’s blue-black cold [out here].”
Narrator: “Laughter [spilled] like gin from glasses” (Rita Dove). There was a carpet of snow on the
ground and definitely a good time to have fun it.
Chorus: “Frosty the snowman was a very jolly snow. With a silver hat and a button nose and two eyes
made out of cold.” You think we can make one. How I love to play in the snow in the old childhood way. For “childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies” (Edna St. Vincent Millay). It’s Christmas time and love is mine.
Rita Dove: “Pure air is the soul advantage of which I can boast in my present condition.”
Robert Hayden: “Raging to break free.”
John McLeod: “Each day brings its own colours:
Chorus: “Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.” Oh how we loved to dance and sing in the snow.
Remember when we were young and used to go to the living room and wait by the chimney
with cookies and cake for Santa Claus coming to town. Sometimes I think he still comes around. All the lights draped on houses and the carolers singing. It’s Christmas time: the season of giving.
And happy to be here with family and friends. I’m so happy that all I can say is yes!
E.E. Cummings: “Yes is the world and in this world of yes live (skillfully curled) all worlds.”
Narrator: A tall, dark, gray man with a purple suit and holey shoes approached the ones playing in the snow for money for a meal. Hungry he was and not trying to cause trouble. He came with peace of a different kind that made some people stumble.
Old Man: “I am the person representing a change in outlook” (Alex Sink).
Chorus: “I clean my brushes, choose my palette of vibrant, living colours and begin to fill today’s blank
canvas” (John McLeod).
Narrator: Gasps of admiration swirled across the canvas. While most stood like shadows boxing the
balance of Christmas Eve’s afternoon, there were some with screw faces and dwelling in mountains of sorrows not appreciating the flow of the unique day.
Chorus: Can you remember when we’d mantle the tree and crochet strands for branches of pine.
Remember hanging the stockings and ornaments around while dancing and singing carols aloud? Those memories stand still like ancient wall paper.
Narrator: While inflated with glee, “one perfect rose poked fun at the romance [and turned it into a
joke]” (Dorothy Parker). The day it grew into “an afternoon of rumors [for the weary blues” (W.H. Auden).
Jack Kerouac: “Why are you so tragic and gloom?”
W.H. Auden: Time says nothing but I told you so.”
Langston Hughes: The weary blues echo . . . but sometimes a crumb falls from the table of joy.”
W.H. Auden: “[I’m learning to] find ordinary moments in extraordinary events.”
Narrator: An extraordinary event it was to hear the story of Jesus’ birth read with such love and of the
star that shined above and the angels that sang the song “glory, glory in the highest. Peace on
earth good will to all men.”
Chorus: “I’m pretty confident now” (Bristol Palin). “Jesus is here bringing good cheer to young and old,
meek and the bold.”
Theodore Roethke: “I learn by going where I have to go.”
Marilyn Moore: “These scars are credentials.”
Narrator: The day turned old and the sun descended from the sky. Together they gathered in the
kitchen to write in a meal for the evening together in light. It was a family of writers together in
flight. And on they went in to watch the Christmas movies. And then to wrap the gifts and bow
them and put them under the tree for when time came to share. Next to the chimney they left a chair with some cookies there.
Rita Dove: “Escorted at night by the radiance.”
John Berryman: “I am two eyes fixed on my viewer, blind.”
Louis Bogan: “I must spell out the storm, the running stream.”
Chorus: it was for a white Christmas that we had dreamed and for the joy of the Lord to fill our hearts.
Born is the King, the world’s light.
Narrator: And through the night, the silent snores. The dream maidens were doing their chores of living
through REM the life they had beamed until a thump change the channel of vivid scenes.
Rita Dove: “I cannot fall asleep again . . . I weep. It is not yet daylight.”
Chorus: “We wish you a merry Christmas.” Wake up, it’s Christmas day. Come on everybody, by the
chimney and lay. Or up on your feet and surround the Christmas tree. It’s Christmas day. Hooray! Hooray!
Narrators: And together they stayed gazing at the toy train circling the wrapped gifts under the tree
they never wrapped nor did they place. And thoughts flew of yesterday and today. Smiles uplifted the aura in a colorful way. Christmas morning! Early rise. Before the yellow golden sunrise. And the carolers sang a-jingling all the way to celebrate the day.