I sensed it in the rock
compressed a thousand feet below.
I saw it in the cardboard box
where some humanity must breathe
the stench of garbage that was once inside.
I heard it flung across the aisle in antiphon
to angel choirs who tend to chant
from pinnacles I cannot touch.
It sang in winds that moan
around the corners of the bar
where dead men go to stare at life again,
or hope to...glowed in execution chambers
as the light dimmed one last time.
It showed in the exuberance of little men in trees—
then within the fires of Hiroshima
when they took away the sun.
I think resplendence is not privy to the heavenly hosts
who woke the shepherds one dark night.
I'm told it bursts out unannounced
among the handicapped, the hopeless,
and the one who understands their plight.
Perhaps I too shall see it close at hand.
For there in Bethlehem's stark cave
is all the glory I can stand.