some theorists say
that he was born in the springtime,
the sky beneath the three kings in folds
of midnight black- the star they followed
white hot in its splendor,
exalting the baby boy-
that they all approached him, followed his trail
in the softness of an April night,
these kings, and stars, and animals
bleating quiet in their mangers,
walking toward him in the warmth
but the theorists, they point
to their calendars, and forget:
there's enough to celebrate in spring-
soft sky, and stars, and animals-
and not so much in winter.
A/N: Sorry if this offended anyone for some reason, or if I didn't get my facts right. Tell me and I'll correct the errors/remove this. I don't actually know anything about Christmas, I just happen to celebrate it and receive gifts....
On the actual writing side of this, it isn't all that good, sort of preachy, but I think I like something about it... oh, and if you have hints on where to punctualize/put line breaks in poetry, tell me!