Glory

She lay him –
God –
On hay,
While angels
unable to contain their joy
unfurled bright wings and flew,
Blossomed a white and fiery rose
before the drowsing sheep –
In thunderous voice
broke into chorus across
the fields, the prickly grass where shepherds sprawled.
And immortal shadows
grew great against the mountains all around.

They serenade the Son
who whimpers, wondering at the world he made,
and lies among the wide-eyed cows:
Jesus –
Deity –
veiled, veiled
from human eyes,
lest he overwhelm us
with his glory
and we die.