Star
The star sharpened, quietly bright,
as shadows darkened into night,
a point of shining light that guides
three kings to where the child abides.
They visited, arrayed with treasure,
gold and incense for his pleasure;
poor tokens for a life of trial
exemplifying self-denial.
A man above, a man apart, beloved of
God with hardly time to steel his heart;
a man who sacrificed his soul
to make the unrepentant whole.
He took Mary for his lover,
she was caring, and sought cover
to conceal his dissolution,
(a passion pure, no need of absolution.)
The star that consecrated birth
no longer smiles upon the earth;
he wept for us upon the cross
and every day we mourn his loss.
Copyright © Keith Bickerstaffe | Year Posted 2009
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