The sky streams bright, a thousand streams
of burnished, flashing light
power vaster than the sea
that dulls the brightest fireside
in white and holy flame.
A voice that speaks, a mighty voice
of bold encouragement:
A Savior come to earth for us?
Greater David, David’s town?
a child-spark, a flame?
Now hosts of angels host us round
an army singing peace?
Glory be to God on high
God’s favor shown to man?
A prayer. A praise. A flame.
Still swirling trails of swirling white
as eyes adjust to dark,
we stumble quickly toward the town
and just as word was said
our burning hearts aflame.
Lying there like princes lie
in gentle downy beds,
a child, still, in feeding trough
breathes silent life: like us.
A small, a minute flame.
And here we take our stations. Hear
and watch into the night.
We come to guard the king of light
and stand like silent sentinels
till sun shall rise in flame.