Christmas Poem

Says a country legend told every year:

Go to the barn on Christmas Eve and seewhat the creatures do as that long night tips over.Down on their knees they will go, the fireof an old memory whistling through their minds!

So I went. Wrapped to my eyes against the coldI creaked back the barn door and peered in.From town the church bells spilled their midnight music,and the beasts listened – yet they lay in their stalls like stone.

Oh the heretics!Not to remember Bethlehem,or the star as bright as a sun,or the child born on a bed of straw!To know only of the dissolving Now!

Still they drowsed on –citizens of the pure, the physical world,they loomed in the dark: powerfulof body, peaceful of mind, innocent of history.

 

Brothers! I whispered. It is Christmas!And you are no heretics, but a miracle,immaculate still as when you thundered forthon the morning of creation!As for Bethlehem, that blazing star

Still sailed the dark, but only looked for me.Caught in its light, listening again to its story,I curled against some sleepy beast, who nuzzledmy hair as though I were a child, and warmed methe best it could all night.

Shared by Jennifer Ian

For more information about poet, Mary Oliver please go to Mary Oliver on The Poetry Foundation.  She is an American treasure and her works, both current and past help us to focus on nature and during the Advent Season, we should all slow down and admire the beauty of God's creations all around us.