Poem, Christmas, 2013

 

Tidings of comfort and joy, oh?

God rest you merry, revellers,

let nothing you dismay.

Your feasting will not feed your ease,

the way you muse it may.

For joy is borne by simpler stuff –

a hand held, day by day.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

We need tidings of comfort and joy.

 

The company you wish a while

is stressed and stretched and taut.

And healing will not come

from all the alcohol you bought.

The games you play to save the day

will leave you flat or fraught.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!,

We need tidings of comfort and joy.

 

And worse, all you have wrought to win

comes when you look away.

The world is still a place of war;

hot hatred’s here to stay.

And “peace on earth” a slogan cold;

old hope set to decay.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

We need tidings of comfort and joy.

 

Now some turn to a treasured tale,

ever more seldom told,

of how, in all the midst of this,

a babe is born: behold!

He lives the life of God alive;

he loves, tender and bold.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

Are here tidings of comfort and joy?

 

All you who dare the dream of this

must each year ask the same:

if it is true, then how to live,

new-known, no guile nor game?

This babe is he who sees you whole,

and frees you from all blame.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

Here are tidings of comfort and joy.

 

Now to your God sing praises

all you within this place,

and with true love and season’s cheer,

each other now embrace.

For revelry has won its rest:

receive it; do not chase.

 

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy!

Sing out tidings of comfort and joy.