Ok, so I lied…this one snuck in there and insisted to come play, so here it is. I hope you like it, and Merry Christmas/Holiday to everyone!
a child is born, to parents poor,
his cradle is a manger, small,
in stable dark beside the inn,
in wind that whistles through the wall.
yet at his birth, the heavens sing,
the glories of a stars bright light
eclipse the lanterns of the inn
and make the sky a beacon, bright
shepherds follow, drawn by light,
and angel voices singing sweet,
gifts they bring, a blanket warm,
the rhythm of a drums soft beat.
and from the East, the wiseman come,
men of learning, traveling far,
gifts they bring, to lay before
the glory born beneath the star.
and in the heavens, angels chorus
till all the world can hear the ring,
peace on earth and mercy mild,
and glory to the newborn king.
the mystery that lies within,
the dreaming that’s our second skin,
the paths we walk, the winds that blow,
the words that let our spirits know,
that what is now has gone before,
the quiet that’s our inner core,
the timeless wonder of the stars
that whispers “this too can be ours”,
the magic of a single minute,
that has so many choices in it,
the peace that dwells within a flower,
the lifetime held within each hour,
the caring touch of heart to heart,
the soul healing power of loving art.