Mary at Midnight, the Babe in Her Arms
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Timeless.
By Lauren Duski.
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M ary at midnight, the babe in her arms:
E ver the myth makes its way to the heart.
R eason gives way to desire and art,
R endered quite mute by the quake of its qualms.
Y es, of course there are angels filling the sky!
C hoirs of angels - how could there not be?
H eavenly hosts like a luminous sea
R ejoicing as God comes to Earth from on high!
I s this true? I mean really? As true as my thumb?
S ense has a way of making no sense.
T he value of each soul needs a defense.
M aybe a sign can be more than a sum.
A ngels sing daily as humans do ill.
S o sing with them! Sing! Of peace and good will!
E ver the myth makes its way to the heart.
R eason gives way to desire and art,
R endered quite mute by the quake of its qualms.
Y es, of course there are angels filling the sky!
C hoirs of angels - how could there not be?
H eavenly hosts like a luminous sea
R ejoicing as God comes to Earth from on high!
I s this true? I mean really? As true as my thumb?
S ense has a way of making no sense.
T he value of each soul needs a defense.
M aybe a sign can be more than a sum.
A ngels sing daily as humans do ill.
S o sing with them! Sing! Of peace and good will!
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.
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