The Eastern Star shined
through the night
illuminating the way.
The Word sang a melody
for my heart to hear,
poignant and pure.
For those with ears
to hear-it was soft
and gentle.
Like tiny beats
of hummingbird's wings,
a whispered message arrived.
A single voice announced
the King's arrival.
He dwelt with us.
A songless world
yearned for echoes of a
promised aria.
Despair dispelled.
The Troubadour sang
the redemptive story.
The morning light hummed,
arousing a sanguine hope,
the frame repeats-
Joy to the World.
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