The night before solstice

(with apologies to Clement Clarke Moore)

Twas the night before solstice and all through Om Shanty
The dog and the cat and the humans were ranting,
There's too much to do, between cooking and cleaning,
Shopping and decorating, primping and preaning.

The parking lot lights on the snow are reflected,
Reminding me of the shoveling I've neglected.
With a fire in the hearth and a drink on the table,
I'll survive til tomorrow, and that's all I'm able

To do in this season of high expectation,
Let's pack up the car and take a vacation
From cookies and cards and bad advertising
That wears on my soul, so it isn't surprising

That folks get short-tempered, angry and stressed
As the days become shorter and dark and depressed.
In the outward display we all get obsessed,
With wrapping and lighting and being well-dressed.

Then something happens right out of the blues,
Reminding me that I've got nothing to lose
But my worldly attachment to what's on my list,
To the things that I want and the things that I've missed.

And then for a minute or twenty it's clear
That what everyone wants is to be with those dear
To them, parents with kids and kids with each other,
Uncles and aunts with their sisters and brothers.

Some of us have to make do with a letter,
A card, or a package we wish was a better
Representation of the whole family history
That grows year by year, and there is the mystery

That makes it imperative, regardless of weather,
To make those connections that keep us together.
So suck it up, folks, it won't be much longer,
And what doesn't kill you will just make you stronger.