It’s Christmas Eve and all through the world
many are stirring restlessness in fitful sleep.
For there are storms of evil exposed in the East,
and faithless father-figures failing everywhere.

And though there’s surely a renewal of Christmas faith
with those who in the dark and bitter cold, and flashes
of war in the night sky and with those protesting with
uncovered hair, or fearing life-threatening diseases.

The world in danger, as it was four score and seven years ago,
with a rise of this evil presenting a third type of hell.
It is now it seems a baby of future-hope may be born,
In the most humble of beginnings, and difficulty of times.

Will she be cold in the dark with a star of fire in the skies,
Or in the Kurdish mountains with defiance in her eyes.
Or possibly in oriental lands threaten by disease and strife
Or even along a border as her mother seeks a better life.

She will come in this world of ours and we’ll come to know
there’s more to Christmas then decorations and lights aglow.
There is hope for salvation beyond religious show, and the spirit
brings us wisdom, love and hope if we’ll open our ears to hear it
… and hearts to feel it.