My Christmas Tree

Christmas Season is in the air
I can smell the mistletoe,
The love, some families share
And others, filled with more sorrow.

Here comes the Christmas trees
Soaking with the smell of grassy pine
Children decorate with red and green bubbles
And shiny tinsel wrapped around twine.

A Christmas tree is just glass and plastic
With alive or fake slimming leaves
I wish I could invent my own tree
One without the materialism, just emotional glee.

I would start with the wooden core,
It's inside filled with love
It would be infused with a family's passion
Finished, with heaven's symbol, a dove.

The stems will not sprout leaves, but laughter
A wilderness of forgiveness and acceptance
All the bitterness will turn into chuckles
And happy memories, mercy, remembrance.

I will decorate it with seasonal balls
But ones with flooding water of tears
The ones life has spilled, and forgotten
With the pain lingering for many years.

These sorrow filled ordainments
Will hang by a strong and joyful thread
They will be decorated with glittery whispers
Of all the kind things friends have said.

My tinsel will display peace on Earth
Each piece of glitter, a county, united
We are as one for a month or two
And forget about Earth's never ending fighting.

My Angel will not be just a toy
It will shine and keep humanity safe
It will look after the weak and sick
And make poverty, wrong doing, fade.

My tree will not exclude a single person
Not a cutter, not a sinner, nor a saint
It will bring out the good in everyone
No blood will be spilled, just crimson, loving paint.

We will be united as one
With happiness for all to feel
But as I look at my ordinary Christmas Tree
I know, this tree will never be real.