The forecasters gave a severe weather warning
High winds and snow, probably sleeting;
And men drove gritters up and down the roads
Staring through the windscreens, solitary heroes.
Thoughts of their children tucked beneath the duvets
Listening for the sound of Santa and sleigh,
Who battles through the snow with slipping hoofs
To reach the inflated Santas on the lit-up roofs.
Beyond the falling snow and whitening scenes
The night sky sparkles with a million stars and dreams,
Of a Christmas babe safe with his parents
And turns gifts of love to simple presents.
The Wise men forecast danger and the family fled,
Long ago parents wept as children bled.
No early warning message or sign
That an infant bore a religion divine.
No global warning when the sea in pain
Stretched its hand across the Indian Ocean.
How small the World this past few years
With instant news, transmitting fears.
Tales of tragedies slowly trickling in
With details and facts hard to imagine
How fast we learnt of people swept like leaves
From the beaches into houses, cars and trees.
Video and phones unfold the flood on our screen
And religious leaders agonise, what it means.
The snow fell in Britain but the Wise men failed
To act on the sea of knowledge as it sailed
Across the seas and left the people to sink or swim
In mud, in grief and in mayhem.
The forecast this morning brings changing winds
With the freshening breeze that World unity brings.
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Just for those that cannot remember what happened Christmas 2004 - this poem refers to the Boxing Day Tsunami.
