Thursday, December 24, 2009
When he flew o'er Sarajevo
There were scars upon the land.
There were scars upon the people.
It was hard to understand.
And the deepest scars of all,
Which to humans are unseen,
But the angel could see clearly,
Were the scars upon the dreams.
Like Belfast, Barundi,
The only decorations here.
Had been awarded for their crimes.
And in the gardens where the children played,
Now soldiers only trod.
And stranger still, he heard some say
That they were killing for their god.
Now the angel had heard God speak many times,
And he had always paid attention.
But this killing of one's neighbor
Was something the Lord had never mentioned.
But as he neared the earth,
A recent battleground,
From among the ruins
He once more heard the sound.
It was a single cello
Playing a forgotten Christmas song.
And even on that battlefield,
The song somehow belonged.
And as he flew away,
The angle did take note
That where he found this music played
One always could find . . . Hope.
Read the story behind the Trans-Siberian Orchestra's "Christmas Eve/Sarajevo 12/24" here.
For my other favorite Christmas songs, click here.