Within the Silence and the Still, the Light

I heard an infant crying in the night A new born lamb come mewling to the fold It’s writ on ancient stone in words of old ‘Within the silence and the still, the light’ The moon is high, the mistle berry white The ice shines in the darkness, in the cold The stars are born, as all the bards foretold Within the silence and the still, the light Insists itself, as soft at first and slight White shifts within the mist upon the wold That lift as it comes rising rose and gold Within the silence and the still, the Light! New born in winter, beautiful and bright Within the silence and the still, the light © Gail Foster 21st December 2018