The Quiet of Christmas

The morning light, so cold and gray,
She wakes to silence, soft and still.
No gifts beneath the tree today,
A quiet house upon the hill.

She wakes to silence, soft and still,
No laughter echoes through the halls.
A quiet house upon the hill,
Where shadows dance on empty walls.

No laughter echoes through the halls,
The stockings hang untouched and bare.
Where shadows dance on empty walls,
She whispers softly, "Is this fair?"

The stockings hang untouched and bare,
Her heart feels heavy with a sigh.
She whispers softly, "Is this fair?"
And wonders why the joy passed by.

Her heart feels heavy with a sigh,
The tree stands tall, yet something’s wrong.
She wonders why the joy passed by,
No carols, no familiar song.

The tree stands tall, yet something’s wrong,
The twinkling lights can’t warm the room.
No carols, no familiar song,
Just distant echoes of the gloom.

The twinkling lights can’t warm the room,
She gazes out at snow so bright.
Just distant echoes of the gloom,
That fills her soul with wintry night.

She gazes out at snow so bright,
And dreams of years that felt so near.
That fills her soul with wintry night,
Where love and laughter would appear.

She dreams of years that felt so near,
The gentle touch of Christmas cheer.
Where love and laughter would appear,
But now, it’s different, far and clear.

The gentle touch of Christmas cheer,
She longs to feel its warmth again.
But now, it’s different, far and clear,
A loss she cannot quite explain.

She longs to feel its warmth again,
Yet knows there’s more than gifts to find.
A loss she cannot quite explain,
Still, hope remains within her mind.

Yet knows there’s more than gifts to find,
The morning light, so cold and gray.
Still, hope remains within her mind,
Though no gifts lie beneath the tree today.