• When you're outside
    Waiting in the snow

    Waiting for the dawn of Christmas
    During the eves of Christmas Eve

    And you stay still, and listen to the rhythm of Christmas.
    And you hear,

    The ever so slight tinkling of snow falling ever so steadily
    The flakes always trying to get caught in your eyelashes, ever so meddilingly.

    The hushed sound of laughter and merriment coming from the house behind you,
    Each window seeping with warm light that brightens your soul

    You decide to come back in for a spell,
    And you listen to the sound of wrapping paper being ripped off the precious package it conceals, the sound exploding all around you.

    You then hear a sweeter tune, the 'sshhhhh' and the 'r-tnkkk r-tnnnk' of ornaments on the Christmas tree tinkling and brushing up against the pine needles and the ornaments around them.

    Before you get lulled too much by the heavenly melody, your ears then perk up to the bittersweet tune of goodbyes.

    You bid the guests goodbye, and you hear the vvvrrrrrrmmmmm of everyones' cars struggling to get out of your snowladen driveway.

    And then, nothing. All the sound you grew accustomed to hearing this night has now ceased, and something deep inside you stirs,

    to the rhythm of Christmas.