The time is near round midnight,
I look to streets below.
Brighter now than normal,
Could it be the virgin snow?
Behold above there shineth,
So high and very far.
The greatest brilliance ever,
Created by one star.
The air is still and quiet,
Such an abnormal thing.
As I strain to listen,
I swear the angels sing.
Down the street below me,
A man and woman appear.
This time of night in Bethlehem,
What are they doing here?
The man is knocking on the door,
To summon from within.
I strain to hear the question asked,
The keeper of the inn.
"Have you a room to lodge us?"
He said his tone was mild.
We've traveled far from Nazareth,
My lady is with child.
"Not inside I'm sorry,"
Said the keeper of the inn.
And pointing at the stable,
"But you may go within."
Once inside he made a bed,
A cradle filled with straw,
And looked upon the woman,
As if transfixed in awe,
I saw the child delivered,
As I heard it would be so,
A golden spectrum round him,
And his body was aglow.
The angels voices louder,
As animals draw near.
And all kneel down beside him,
All that would come here.
Wise men, Kings of Orient,
With treasures that they yield.
Even shepherds came within,
Their flocks still in the field.
In a dream I'd seen it,
This is the promised one.
And I alone was summoned,
To announce him with my drum.
This poem was a finalist in the
December 2022 poetry contest