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Enya sings Silent Night

6/7/2010

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A homeless man waits, for the crosswalk light
Way back in his past, he gave up the fight
The cars keep turning, apathetically right
 Alone he stands, with his blurring sight
Somehow I knew, it would all be alright
When Enya started, to sing silent night

My Country’s in pain, the troubles are deep
The old Uncle Sam, might die in his sleep
U hauls are packed, housings a fright
They’re having to move, to nowhere in sight
I knew everything, would soon be alright
When Enya started, to sing silent night

Son home from college, just turned twenty one
Proud of the things, he’s learned and he’s done
He’s gone to Vegas, to see the bright sight
The lump in my throat, as he’s boarding his flight
I knew everything, would soon be alright
When Enya started, to sing silent night

My dear old Dad is losing the fight
He’s lived a long life, with all of his might
The future for him, is eternally bright
It’s me…that without him, faces the fright
But I know everything, will soon be alright
Enya , is singing her song silent night

Alone in my chair, the fire waving good night
All is peaceful now, I’m filled with delight
I know everything, will end up alright
Enya has sang, her sweet silent night

David Kettler



I wrote this poem Christmas 2008. My two college age boys were home for the holidays and I think it was on a Saturday just before or just after Christmas. We had a fire in the fireplace, Darren was sleeping on the floor in front of the fire and Enya was playing in the CD player. She sings silent night in Hebrew and it’s one of the most beautiful things I have ever heard. Laying back in my chair wrapped in a blanket, I just remember thinking, everything is going to be alright. The poem was starting to gel in my mind when I needed to run down to the corner store for something. As I sat at the light, I saw the homeless man waiting for the light and those first few lines came to me. The other thing that was very real was my oldest going to Vegas to celebrate his twenty first birthday with friends. I couldn’t help but think of all the things a dad would worry about. I sent the poem to Enya but as yet have not heard back!


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