Poetry: Nativity Song

For the common, the ignoble, the lowly,

On that inimitable, witching hour

Bidden by lustrous hosts, you drew nearer.

On an eve of miracles transcendent,

The shepherds were not forgotten.

Urged by angelic escorts, those ordinary men

Surveilled the Glory of him begotten.

For the prince, the prominent, the man of consequence,

Shimmered in the gloom of terrestrial night

A twinkling chaperone since unfamiliar.

It beckons you, as well, to that dusty stable

With its singular good tidings.

Whether wise, or royal, or both, you came,

Humbled by the infant King.

Telling are the donkey and ox; too dim to comprehend,

Those simple shepherds, those worthy kings,

Alerted only by wonders heretofore unseen.

In kindness doth the Lord convey his messengers

Lest those mortals, too, be dull.

There by grace do all men survey,

The shepherd, the king, the carpenter, all.

In the manger he slumbers,

The promise of old, realized hope of generations.

What benevolence placed him on this girl’s breast,

Or confided such splendor on wretched eyes?

Before him, all men wax vulgar,

Yet, there did He convene with these unlikely guests,

The Potter with his clay, the Weaver and his tapestry.

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