Broken Christmas melodies

come from an antique music box

while Santa and his raindeer

circle high above

the little cabin in the woods.

He, puzzling how his great girth

might squeeze through

that stove-pipe chimney on the roof.

Outside,

the little boy,

working so hard,

decorates a little pine tree

in the snow-drifted yard.

The first song is heard,

without its first two notes.

De De Dada!

(…all ye faithful)

rings out,

but incomplete

and its last six bell-tone-notes

Dada Dee Dee De-da!

(….Him, Chri-ist the Lord)

are missing

so the carol ends with a command

to “Adore…”

(Da Da)

but the focus of the score

is never heard.

Yet Grandpa keeps winding

the battered old box,

knowing the world

might never know what

De De DaDa

(…all ye faithful…)

are to do

or to whom they might raise

their songs of worship and praise.

Liturgy with no object

drifts on

in a star-light-lit-night

mixed with other

garbled holy messages,

mysteries,

floating through from

past eternities

and onward into tomorrow.

But the next carol

De-dede, De de De de

(Repeat! Repe-e-et)

echoes perfectly,

never-the-less,

with boundless joy!

The little boy,

humming a sleepy but pristine

“Silent Night”,

returns to the cabin

happily discovering

his just-delivered-toy.

Grandpa snores loudly

from his rocker by the fire.

Santas sleigh speeds on

through the

“O’ So Holy Night!”