The shortest day came, and the year neared its close.

And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world

Came people singing, dancing,

To drive the dark away.

They lighted candles in the winter trees;

They hung thier homes with evergreen;

They burned beseeching fires all night long

To keep the year alive.

And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake

They shoulted, reveling.

Through all the frosty ages you can hear them

Echoing behind us - Listen!!

All the long echoes sing the same delight,

This shortest day,

As promise wakens in the sleeping land; They carol, feast, give thanks,

And dearly love thier friends,

And hope for peace.

And so do we, here, now,

This year and every year.

Namaste!

_Susan Cooper