In the dark of a winter’s night, I see you,

What is it you seek, standing there on

This cold night?

What I seek is not to be seen, listen to me,

I am still young as I stand and dream.

The falling snow rains down upon my head,

It is silent, but the touch of it is cold to my skin.

The bells from the church chime into my ears,

This beautiful sound is something heard.

The cold wind can not be seen, for me, only

Heard,

I listen as they sing from door to door,

This I know because I can hear.

Colorful lights are strung from rooftops

Everywhere,

I know of this, as December is upon us.

A horse-drawn carriage is passing by,

This can be seen from my wanting mind.

What is it you seek, you ask of me?

The sight that’s been taken, the sight lost,

That keep my hopes and dreams alive.

Keith Garrett