Empty Seats - a poem by Bud Skinner

Empty Seats

No more candy or toys neath the tree.
 No more magic from Santa to me.
 As a child his arrival was pure thrill.
 Now an adult all I receive, the bills.

It's still a treat when loved ones gather.
Each CHRISTmas day a room of chatter.
 To watch the surprise as all gifts are shown.
 Some wondering how their desires were known.

Eating more food than you should handle.
 The tensile and the advent candles.
 The hugs and kisses neath the mistletoe.
 The relief, the sorrow as people go.

Not good, empty chairs, more than a few.
Of all the loved ones your life once knew.
 Memories brought back of Christmases past.
 Thoughts of the passing of time, oh so fast.

But this holiday is so much more,
 Than presents, trees and wreaths on your door.
 More than fam'ly, presents and food galore.
 It's about Mary and the babe she bore.

It's all about that night, over twenty centuries ago.
 When a baby in a feeding trough was lit by a stars glow.
 A God come to earth to give the ultimate gift.
 To later die on a cross so we could yet live.

So now, think once again of empty chairs.
 Not those in front of you, but those up there.
 All the vacant seats behind Heaven's door.
 Your Christmas in Heaven for evermore.

Bud Skinner