A Christmas morn
The mist lies low on Christmas morn,
Soft as an angel’s wing,
While sounds of joy are gently borne—
Today is born Christ the King.
We wake to dawn’s obscured first light,
Veiled in low-hung cloud,
The day is cloaked in holy sight,
In heaven’s hush endowed.
No crown of gold, no marble throne,
But straw beneath His head,
Yet heaven bends where He is known,
And angels’ hymns are spread.
The woods hold breath, the rivers still,
The night bends low to hear,
As if all things by vale and hill
Knew God had wandered near.
The oak remembered ancient breath,
The yew bent low in vow,
For life was sworn against all death
In straw and starlight now.
The stars grew dim at His first cry,
The sky itself went swiftly by;
On that day the Empyrean Star arose
To herald forth the way—
The Son of Heaven, born of Woe.
In fragile flesh, the Word made near,
A mercy born this day,
The hope of all the waiting years
Now breathes in infant clay.
So stand in awe this silver hour,
Where earth and heaven cling,
For love itself is born this morn—
All glory to the King
Now keep this hush the world has known,
This breath between the years,
Where God lies wrapped in mortal bone
And sanctifies our fears.
May peace like falling snow descend,
May light the dark undo,
Till love made flesh shall rise again
And make all things made new.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
