Oh, holy night, the star is brightly shining. Or perhaps a comet?
It is the warm, balmy night of our Savior's globed birth. In the air,
a thrill, but no snow lies glistening. No snow upon snow or midwinter chill.
No regal kings, whether one or three, are present to worship the baby.
Although they who are coming, in their shipless “Orient” wisdom,
may already be traversing moor and mountain seeking incarnate deity.
Silent-ish night, holy night, there is no crib for a bed, a feeding trough
only, one true element of our auld familiar Christmas imagery.
There is no angel dangling above, no kneeling bovine or braying ass.
Shepherds? Yes, a few show up, stunned and stung by angel song.
They ramble in, perhaps a bit boisterous, breathless as they recount
the startling scene that broke over them on the snowless field. Or mount?
Joseph and Mary, with the fresh born ancient Truth, are here, sheltering,
wondering. He assumed to be older than she assumed to be a teen.
But again, this is speculation. There apparently was no inn to be shunned
from, or a donkey on which to ride, or even a stable in which to hide.
Details are lacking. But one truth holds firm. He, foretold, has come
to earth, and nothing remains the same with His new birth. The Son!
* It's PoMo! To learn about PoMo (POetry MOnday), click here and then scroll down.
Some object to Christmas traditions, especially elements attached to the Nativity, that aren’t specifically in the Bible passages. This poem addresses some of those poetic yet technical inaccuracies, many found in Carols. Can you recognize the Carols alluded to? How do you feel about the embellishments? Are they evil or harmless? Please let me hear from you! Feel free to share your thoughts and impressions in the comments. (More posts to come on this topic this week. Click here.)
The Nativity c. 1400, Tempera on walnut, Galerie mittelalterlicher österreichischer Kunst, Vienna:
This poem is included in this collection: