Christmas Eve and all through the house

Twas the night before Christmas, we all sported a grin;
not a person was protesting about the color of ones skin.
No sign of Reverend Al or Gloria in all her red,
as people of color sat together and broke bread.

The streets were empty, and the stores sat quiet;
no one seemed interested in starting a riot.
The news did its part and focused on the good,
instead of stirring trouble in a struggling neighborhood.

Police sat bored inside warm patrol cars,
while friends celebrated, smoking Cuban cigars.
Our mother was in the kitchen, cooking up a feast,
while father thought of his son, still in the Middle East.

We sat at the table, as different as can be;
forgetting the past, while looking toward the possibility.
We remembered loved ones lost, and those in need,
we stopped pointing fingers, or blaming it on greed.

We were thankful for all that we have to enjoy,
and spoke of ways to build, rather than to destroy.
We marveled at the color that lay on our plate,
and forgot about the kind that is used toward hate.

There was laughter and joy, and good will toward each other;
we spoke in praise of the feast prepared by a loving mother.
And just as it ended, the doorbell rang,
and when it was opened, the voices sang.

Come all ye faithful, all through the night;
bring joy to the world, on this holy night.
Come all ye faithful, and hear what I hear;
Merry Christmas to all, and to all good cheer.