It's that time of year again;
you know what that means
Not presents galore, yet presents
glorious; not what's under the tree
Yet what's under the looking glass;
not what you think, at first glance
Look again, see what's under the tree,
under the glass as one, if not the same
Presents, presence, past, future,
a venerable veritable variety
That's where delight comes from,
let lights on the tree remind you
Rest there, next to the tree, near
the presents, in The Present
Feel the presence of the season,
and the still, quiet voice, Shhhhhhh
The present embraces all, so be glad,
be good, be glorious
