Staring at each other past the silent wind
Wondering what they had just seen:
“It can’t be! Must be something in the food
That triggered this psychedelic scene!”
“But let’s go and see: remember when of old
The prophets promised One from David’s mold.”
“Manger? King in a box of animal spit?
The Lord in dirt is Evil’s last dirty trick.”
“But what if what we watched here were real?
Won’t we miss out on Bethlehem’s best deal?”
“No! I have my sheep and darkness calls for sleep
Plus, where to start to meet this folly? Which dung heap?”
“We can search the town, picking out honest owners
Who would have met the 2 peasants, missing the bonus.”
“Yeah the melody rang deep in my tired soul
Like a December hearth fighting winter’s ghouls!”
“Let’s go! Let go of all. Didn’t you hear the GLORIA?
God will surely take our feet to where His Son resides.”
So, curious, excited, scared, confused at the vision
They set off, one to guard the sheep, the rest on mission.
Round Bethlehem they went, past angry side eyes on streets,
To snarls from banging doors till they arrived at His feat:
The Lord of Heaven, stripped to a swaddled sleeping infant
And they believed, and relieved, broke into the angelic chant:
(c) nyonglema
