A Christmas Paradox

The beat of a paradox drums on in an empty space inside my head

This way or that stomps confused footfalls from flying dust to dead

While a chorus of angels cry silent unseen without daily bread

And the stairs to heaven crumble while the rest step ahead

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A famished farm sits in a frozen frame fielded by hopes that have fled

Another place where hunger huddles in a haunt that now hosts dread

As the ghost of Christmas passes over a stream of dreams that bled

And the stairs to heaven crumble while the rest step ahead

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An ancient story forges on without room in the shelter for a warm bed

A will to survive the only gift that trudges forward on cold feet of lead

The snow we pray for cannot absolve the dirt beneath greed's tread

And the stairs to heaven crumble while the rest step ahead

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Looked down into the precipice of despair to feel its tenuous thread

Ambiguity filters through fragmented light of fragility's stead

Brick by brick, love can build a bridge to close the chasms unfed

So the stairs to heaven won't crumble while the rest step ahead

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