This starry dawn - the wise men yet afar - <br />the shepherds are abed, their night's task done. <br />Is Mary tired? Or, as one untouched? <br />All birth's a miracle; not less this one. <br /> <br />The cattle have bestirred at hint of morn, <br />the thought of feeding making moist their muzzle; <br />straw is rustling, as they, manger-drawn, <br />find unfamiliar form- so warm - to nuzzle. <br /> <br />What were the first words Joseph softly said <br />to Mary, as dawn broke, this day of days? <br />And who, sent from the inn to cattle-shed <br />to feed and lay fresh straw, fell still in praise? <br /> <br />How long, this morn, before the murmured sound <br />of voices in the street, as Word gets round?<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/0039-on-the-morning-of-christ-s-nativity/
