What makes this night
different from all others?
Our faces lit before the fire,
we repeat the old stories
and count the constellations.
Or we sit
in the habit of silence
like someone long married.
Until the angel appears
with its stab of glory
and we are sore afraid.
We hear his shouted greeting
at once so jocular and familiar
and yet so strange and unearthly.
We hear too
the beating of many wings
like the sound of many waters
and the bleating of the frightened sheep
who scatter in alarm.
But we cannot
comfort them
because we are struck
dumb with wonder.
Bethlehem Night
