how could their jubilation be contained
on that cold winter night, the angels proclaiming Him
the long awaited, Jesu, the heart's best gift;
heralding wildly over the shepherd's fold
exorbitant anthems in pure gold
to proclaim, Him, the long awaited Child.
and the constellations tinkling like bells
glass bells in hindsight over the long midnight of the World.
snuggled at home on childhood's Christmas nights
how often I thought I felt that glory
when thinking in glory was possible
as if thinking in light
still now, on yet another winter's night
it comes back to me that
superb and changeling music, each time
more radiant, even more Divine.
my Saviour!
mary angela douglas 15 november 2022
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