I want to drift lightly above the earth
carrying sunshine on my wings
Horizon eyes, ablaze with good
showering laughter that sings

Seeking purposeful destination
always wilting when encaged
Never a mind more colorful
always brilliant, never strange

Mysteriously I’ll fly untethered
at times entirely against the wind
Your heart would flutter if ever you saw me
and not beat until you glimpsed me again

Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to Him the Angels sing
Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to the newborn King

Let Heaven and Earth adore
Let every tongue confess
The moment you've waited for:
The Prince of Peace at rest

Open your home, open your heart
Come find Him where He lay
In the place where it all starts
Rejoice! Salvation has come today

The day of the Lord is upon us
The moment has drawn nigh
See how much He loves on us
Sing Glory to our God most high

Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to Him the Angels sing
Glory to God in the Highest
Glory to the newborn King

Before I was born,
God looked down at my unfinished fate,
And he declared,
"We shall make him a poet, but he will learn to be,
And not be gifted with."

Well God gifted me,
And sent me down to earth,
In the fall, a season marked by death!
How ironic I was born,
In the month of earth's last breath.

As a young child I played happily,
As the angels of dilemma watched over me,
And every so often sent a tragedy.
That I'd have to foster and live with,
Until I returned to God my poetic gift.

Soft snow falling,
Kissing the white tops of the trees.
It'll be a white Christmas this year,
First one my baby cousin will ever see.
His sleepy eyes and rosy nose,
Does he know that his joy will simply grow,
When Saint Nickolas completes his flight?
No I doubt he'd know that tonight is the night,
Of the birth of Jesus Christ.

No, but he will learn,
All in time as bed hours turn.
A yawn catches me drifting off,
As I sip my spiced cider and listen to the Christian hymns.
Staring into the golden lights of Grandmother's "Angel Tree,"
I often wonder, did baby Jesus know, he was sent by God,
To save our souls?
Or did he find his light along the way?

I'd ask the pastor,
But tonight the church is quiet.
Waiting for Christmas Mass tomorrow,
While young children are tucked into bed,
Drifting dreams of presents fighting the will to wait up for Saint Nick.

And as the candles fade,
I figure it is my time as well.
To turn to bed,
And await the sleigh of Santa Claus.
This Christmas though,
He will not be able to bring me what I want.
Unless, I could catch a ride,
On his magic flight.
Visit the ocean,
And sing "White Christmas," with you one more time.

But matter not what I long for,
I will slip away to sleep eventually.
'Merry Christmas to all,
And to all, a good night.'

A blanket black across the sky:
The ice-ringed moon lights backs of sheep.
We see our breath and hear the sighs
of gathered cattle that we here keep.

There in the dark on pasture fields
while we watch over our huddling sheep,
a silver seraph, her wings revealed,
now rouses us from the darkness’ deeps.

She opens up her thousand wings,
reveals a blaze of gilded flame,
cold air around us begins to sing
in tempest that her fire proclaims.

Our hearts now race, our eyes are blind
from searing light and disbelief:
in cowering terror we take our flight
and quiver as a quaking leaf.

Out of the cauldron of light she made
comes forth a voice of gold lyre strings:
Dear shepherds, my friends, don’t be afraid
for I am herald of glad tidings.

And all around, piercing the dark,
come further blazes of wings and song,
each calling to us to rest and hark
to this gathering radiant throng.

Their whirlwind song swells to a peak,
of peace and glory in highest heights.
We long to see of which they speak:
the wonder of this night of nights.

Their chorus gleams and softly fades;
the embers of our hearts now glow.
We stand in awe of what they said
and feel our veins with warm hope flow.

We see a star rise in the west:
To the birthplace of a shepherd king
we walked in peaceful silence past
the watchful stars a-twinkling.

Along the path to newborn babe
are brambles, barren bushes’ thorns
that by the light the angels made
bring forth red roses with gold adorned.

Thus from the shards of broken worlds
comes sudden hope in wings unfurled.

Why, Oh Little Ones, do you stop and stare
What you are seeking is no longer there
You walked beside him for three years
The very Word of Life was in your ears
He died and rose and appeared once more
To prepare you for what is yet in store
He laid His holy hands upon you
To confer a spirit of authority and truth
With his power you have been sent out
Trust in His plan and do not be in doubt
Do not stand there frozen and dumb
Time is short and there is much work to be done
Go you now out into the mission field
And gather for the master a bountiful yield

Gods will come and go
but the angels will always
walk among us
dazzled by the glow
of a finite life
lived with such
desperation
not wanting to miss a thing