How strange, this evening scene...

The dust of the day cocooned in frost

Shimmering as dark jewels between

My running feet, as we search, lost.

This night’s air seems to glow

As my breath proceeds in panicked puffs

And still hangs, disappointed as it tries to follow

Me, in my haste, carrying my wife and her burden of love.

The frost bubbles popping, silent and cold,

I hurry from dirt to cobbled paths of cold stone

Pounding on doors, our need making me bold,

To plead for a room, a shelter…in a town so full…we are so alone.

Wife, whispering her prayers as the pressure builds,

In the distance, not too far away,

I see an old man watching the stars shining on the hills,

And call to him…he points to a stable, dusted with hay.

Turning to it, I shout to him thanks and blessings,

And run into the little home of sheep and a cow,

To place my wife gently down, awaiting the gift God brings.

“Joseph” she says, “God’s mercy is with me…He is coming now”

The air was still, as a star brilliantly bright

Lit the place where she lay,

And music was heard in the silent night,

Calling the faithful to our place where night became day…

Shepherd’s and kings, cattle and sheep in that little stall

Witnessed in awe and joy…

Each soul vibrating to the music of the Angel’s call

As my dear wife, Mary, held her little boy…