My Christmas poem for 2025

"At the Christmas concert"

Each year I like to write a poem to capture some sense of the wonder or the mystery of Christmas. Perhaps look, at new angles or with the angels, at the familiar parts of this annual tradition and see if I can find something fresh.

I always do. Not because I’m clever. But because Christmas and the Spirit behind it are endlessly new and renewing.

I’m not always sure how it’ll come to me, or when. So it was with some surprise that the idea for this year’s poem started to reveal itself at my daughter’s Christmas concert. I was touched by the enthusiasm—unrestrained and self-giving—on display in the sea of kids who sang their hearts out.

I hope you enjoy the poem and I wish you and yours every blessing and much peace this Christmas.

~ AK

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At the Christmas concert
Christmas 2025

As we craned our necks 
poked our heads over the sea of
families dutifully scanning for their
little loved one on the stage
we weren’t just 
squinting across a crowded gymnasium

It took me a moment to understand
from where I sat on 
the fold-out plastic chairs that put unfamiliar 
pressure on my lower lumbar
that I was squinting across
time, generations

Did anyone else see
under the bright 
spotlights, the small threads 
sewn into the hems of Christmas dresses
with faux fur necks and peplum waists
the belt loops of corduroy pants?
Colourful cotton and silk fibres 
twisted carefully together into long strands 
a network of threads from 
the stage along the gymnasium floor
that wove throughout the aisles
to each row in the auditorium

As the voices of children sang
unselfconsciously like the loudest angel
choir–a cacophony of tones and
praise, words heralded by heavenly host
foretold by prophets, uttered by exiles 
in the quiet and clamorous moments of history
it was then I noticed the thread sewn into the 
hem of my own  jeans
It could have easily been confused for an untied 
shoelace or a length of tinsel, but 
when I reached down it grabbed hold of me

These stories tether us
to heaven, to each other 
these songs we sing, faith like little children
in our hearts, are the truest things

© 2025 Andrew Kooman