In this land of Buddha
The holidays sneak up on me
No carols or jingle bells in any store
No crowd jostling for product
No Santas ringing bells on any corner
Just silence, work, life, cold
Until one day on the bus home
Uniformed elementary boys, numbers on their backs
Baseball kits at their feet, hum jingle bells and laugh
The station bakery has a half price sale
Two Santas calling “Irrasshaimase” out front
As I work on Christmas eve and day
My students tell me of their Christmas plans
Chicken, cake, and love hotels
This peace of season and of man
Is seldom known in Christian lands
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