Christmas Eve

This random evening, garnished by the bells,
its usual dampness sanctified by lights,
conjures whole families to church, compels
community ritual more than other nights.

And some in every pew praise God in faith,
having a shaft of starlight in each eye;
while others, hearing of a winter birth,
are pleased with Christmas Eve, uncertain why.

These also celebrate: their unbelief
is drawn together by an April sense
of sure nativity that makes all grief
seem lost in mist beyond the graveyard fence.

It is a kindly myth, and a special day.
It was contrived to distance death away.