Christmas

Christmas

In the dark of night

creation sighs,

the cedars grown

and babies cry.

Behold the storms

Behold the sick

Behold the poor tonight.

There, beneath the stars,

blow heavy winds

while shepherds pray

and lovers sin.

Behold the rain

Behold the pain

Behold yourself tonight.

In the colder hours

tea leaves seep

in forgotten cups

while the milk goes sour.

Behold the hurt

Behold the chill

My lungs they burn tonight.

Then dawn delays

where camels spit;

the masses breathe

and war is stayed.

Behold the crib

Behold the Lord

Behold he comes tonight.

+ Br. Joseph Michael Fino, CFR

Paterson, NJ

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