On the dark hills at first
shepherds watch
the dance of the stars
In the dark shelter
a fragile child,
bare arms outstretched
Outside, angels deliver
the glory of God:
heaven’s light comes down,
flows like a river
into the dark tower
where lambs
are wrapped for slaughter
Swaddling cloths
are borrowed:
like a lamb,
the child
is covered
ready for sacrifice
full of glory
full of light
Shepherds rush in
out of the darkness:
and the night dissolves