This town is one we've seen before:
These crooked lanes, that stable door,
Although it must have been a dream,
For never were we here before.
And that quick dog, scared and lean,
Crossing the square scarcely seen
And the dark-haired girl leaning out
The hostel window familiar seem.
The sky was lit by the evening star
As now, but brighter then by far;
Above us shuddered angels' wings
And we had journeyed far, so far.
The midnight air was a crystal vise
Crushing a billion bits of ice -
One stood out grand and glaring. Mary, a virgin in her bearing, Joseph trying to make the best Of the situation. You know the rest:
Denied the use of house and table, The birth took place in a humble stable. Shepherds, black and yellow kings, The sky a feast of angels' wings. Thirty years later descended a dove, Inaugurating the age of love.
© Frank Thomas Smith