Midnight Mass
Whoosh the wind,
clear the midnight sky.
Starry the cosmos,
that silhouettes the church.
The church stands triumphant,
Windows all aglow.
The rain light,
on the cusp of snow.
My breath a smoky bellow,
my fingertips now icecubes.
A chorus of carols calling,
My heart to the weathered stone.
For I am blessed, so blessed,
on the eve of Christmas morn.
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