Cristes Maesse
In winter
the blackest of
nights cloak the heavens
exploding their brilliance
Millions
of unseen shards
fall earthward through
the atmosphere – the air so
dense, it takes one’s breath away
At first light
gnarled and scattered
waste of seasons past
glisten for a moment under
last night’s carpet of frost –
Soon, all
will be swept away
and the Earth become barren.
But hark – between
night, and morning
one tiny baby changed everything
Out of winter’s
silence, was born
a season of perpetual
hope and love for all time
Not for gold
frankincense or myrrh
do we celebrate.
Rejoice! in Christmas.
