Tuesday, December 08, 2009
The star shines in city and town,
dark places yield their grip,
shadows become the hiding place of fools.
Clamour and bawl of purpose, desire,
and achievement’s scheming vacuum
are struck dumb this unsilent night.
There may be no angels singing here,
no outcast shepherds with restless flock
nor sages perched on tired dromedaries.
There may be no warm cattle or festooned straw,
no earth stood as hard as iron
or dreamless sleepy streets.
But soon, with embers of heaven,
the child returns to open hearts
and with smiling eyes says again
Posted by Keith Wallis at 2:45 pm