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’Tis the season for Big Money

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By Bob Fuselier


Twas three months before Christmas
And all through the nation
Everyone was fearful
And manning their stations.
When Big Money decided
It’s that time of year
To take a break, a reprieve,
From our anger and fear.
Big Money’s no fool;
He’d grown strong and, yes, bold.
But his streets were in need
Of more layers of gold.
He deserved it, you see,
For he had worked hard this past year.
Installing the minions
With false pride and big fear.
It took hard work to buy
All those hearts and those minds.
They came from everyone,
You and me, all peoples, all kinds.
They came from the rich.
They came from the poor.
They came from the lady
Minding the store.
They came from the powerful.
They came from the weak.
The came from most everyone,
Save the humble and meek.
Big money is mighty
Like a fortress of steel.
But he hides well from the masses
The truth: he’s not real.
He knows he’s an illusion,
A facade we’ve all made.
Formed of our fear, our greed,
Of the lies that we’ve laid.
Big Money needs this season,
One of hope and true peace.
When he owns it he knows
Greed and fear aren’t released.
But out west in the mountains,
In the forest of pines,
The answer to Big Money
Is easy to find.
The storms here are cruel
With their cold wind and deep snow,
But the mornings that follow
Are something to know.
The mountain sky’s deep blue
Lies beyond all description.
The peace and the quiet
Are a needed prescription.
By the air, crisp and cold,
Our dreams are awakened.
Fear and greed have no chance,
Their foundations are shaken.
The light from the sun
Is not horded nor hidden.
It’s reflected and refracted,
Again and again, freely given.
The light of these mountains,
Seen by heart and by reason,
Symbolize the sanctity
Of the upcoming season.
A celebration of a birth
Of one who saw well,
Of he who offered hope
From our fears of our hells.
Some see him as prophet,
Others as savior.
Some see him as a simple man
Of most perfect behavior.
Through stories and parables
He revealed the world’s fate:
We can’t live if we don’t awaken
From our greed and our hate.
The answer he preached
Is to open our eyes,
And to see that it’s our heart
Where the change we need lies.
Big Money step aside
It is we who now speak
All of us here
Both the strong and the weak.
This season’s not yours.
It is sent from above.
It is meant to be filled
With faith, hope and love.
 From the mountains out west,
I wish as I end,
May your Christmas be filled
With family and friends.
And like the light in the snow
Through the sky a deep blue,
May the Grace that is God
Shine upon all — and you, too.