On the Morning of Christ's Nativity

                                                  I
It’s dark and drear today,
The sky a numbing gray,
With cloud-banks bowing near to brush the ground;
The wan white snow is gone,
Absorbed into the lawn
That stretches in brown desolation ’round,
While in the barren garden beds
The first brave tulips break, to raise their gladsome heads.

                                                  II
And in my heart I yearn
For Spring’s rainbowed return,
And wish that I were now in Other-When;
That darkness veiled the land
And in a starry Band
Bright Angel courses, far as eye could ken,
Proclaim in verses pure, and call
The advent of Good Will and Peace on Earth to All.

                                                  III
If I were Other-Where
And heard that holy Air
  Resounding over shepherds’ eager ears,
Then might I join the throng
And know that I belong
  With hosts of worshippers who shed all fears,
Might joyfully meld my song with them                       
And journey through dark vales to distant Bethlehem;

IV
Where Mary enfolds her Son,
Her strenuous labors done,
  Near Joseph, steward of the mortal Maker
Chosen from before
Wild oceans voiced their roar
  Or whispered in a world-wide, blue-froth breaker;
Or eagles soared through tumbled skies,
Or spirit shone through lion’s, tiger’s, lynx’s eyes.

V
Elected ere each world
In cosmic order whirled
  About a thousand thousand thousand stars;
A simple child, to grow
And know both joy and woe
That mark His trail of days like shadow bars;
Though Son withal of Father-God,
Content to bear His pall of needful flesh-façade.

VI
In that Other-Where
A rough-hewn manger, bare
Of all but fragrant golden straw,
Would serve as cynosure
Within the night obscure,
And silent eyes—now moist with tearstains—draw
From Heaven to long-expectant Earth
As simple shepherds greet an Infant’s Holy Birth.

VII
The Child with eyes tight-closed,
His fragileness exposed
To all the vagaries of mortal life,
Sleeps peacefully and dreams
Perhaps—or so it seems—
Of Heaven’s rest exchanged for earth-bound strife,
Of praises formed on every tongue,
And crystal anthems by hosts of Angels freely sung.   

VIII
Or should we still extend
Beginnings without End
And see Him in divinest Councils speaking;
Where two exalting Plans
Are offered forth, for Man’s
Eternal Destiny and Fate both seeking;
Intelligences without start,
As Spirits clothed, hear that each must soon depart;

IX
And whether yet impelled,
By One’s strong will compelled
To troop in irons back to Heaven’s cell;
Or if by faith return
And endless honors earn,
Or fail, and through their choices merit Hell—
The lot is theirs—no vote sustained;
Each heart is free, and thus, strict agency maintained.
     
X
Some seek the safest way,
That in stolen freedom lay,
Where One will force each Spirit’s right decision,
And joined in gleeful mirth
At those whose trial on Earth
Might end with them soul-bound by Sin’s derision,
While they who chose in fear this plan
Were guaranteed safe-conduct back to God, as man.

XI
But more were stirred by Him
Whose Plan at first seemed grim,
Since it retained the chance that some might fail;
But those whose true Will spoke
Would break Perdition’s yoke,
And after trials endured in bodies frail
Might through the Son’s unending Light
Thus prove themselves full worth Celestial Worlds bright;

XII
And sing forevermore
Creation’s mighty score
From worlds unnumbered through perpetual Space,
And hymn with one accord
The Glories of their Lord,
Whose life and death rang greatness for their race;
While every note to Him thus sung
Trebles but the praise of God from every tongue.

XIII
But would that be too much
Encumbrance laid on such
A sweet and tender Babe as this here sleeping?
Would the jading weight
Of untold worlds’ fate
Disturb his pleasant rest with weary weeping?
Is this too great a burden still
For One so tiny, weak, and helpless to fulfill?

XIV
If aye, then we must turn
To future years to learn
How His Plan’s fruition might unfold;
But oh! that leads to fears
And terrifying tears
Upon a high and lonely Mountain cold,
Where He alone must suffer woe,
And He, of all God’s Sons, alone to Death must go;

XV
And so conclude His Word
By countless Spirits heard
That He thus takes upon Him Mankind’s sins,
And by that selfless Act
Completes the Eternal Pact,
And Heaven’s approbation fully wins;
While millions taste their pented breath—
In awe, regard on High the instant of His Death.

XVI
To tarry at that sight,
Or marvel at His plight,
Would prove too much for mortal heart to bear;
To look beyond were wise,
A respite for frail eyes
And solace to all hearts worn thin with care;
For through His death he works a change
And fashions thus a vessel for our souls’ exchange.

XVII
For after three dark days
He our full forfeit pays,
With broken heart and blood for Mankind shed;
And with the morning dew
Arises—Lives!—anew
And walks this Earth with simple footsteps’ tread;
’Mid lilies white and diamond pure
He works for us forever deadly Sin’s last cure.

XVIII
But now the Infant sleeps,
While Mary softly weeps
In joy and sorrow for the coming years;
And falters, filled with awe!
At Mercy wedding Law
And treasures up great promise mixed with fears;
And in His face, composed and fine,
She sees the coming Judgment of great Adam’s line.

XIX
For the bright Son dawns with Power,
Whose Might and Grandeur flower
With full achievement of His chosen Task,
And mounts above wide throngs
Repentant of their wrongs,
Content in His great Presence now to bask;
While he with Wisdom’s somber grace
Consigns each spirit to its well-appointed Place;

XX
Until each Heavenly Sphere
Bides, eager to draw near
The seat of Radiance and ethereal Throne;
Across the cosmic waste
Each planet waits in place
To feel the sear of flame that each must own
Before they wheel through reverend skies
And humbly bow before their loving Sovereign’s eyes.

XXI
And He will judge each kind,
Each Making of His Mind
  On counted Worlds that whirl without End;
From them accept His Crown
Of Honor and Renown,
And every knee in every Where shall bend
In recognition of His power
Foretold, and now encompassed by this final hour.

XXII
Then the Creator-Son
His mortal conflict done,
Will fold all Cosmos in His firm embrace,
Where vast Intelligence
Uncounted Eons hence
Will praise His Name and magnify His grace;
And each, enrobed in flesh and bone
Renew the Plan and seek progression as His own

XXIII
But no! it is not so;
For us there can be no
Other-Where or Other-When than here;
Let us softly leave
While day-larks gently weave
Their lullabies to fall on Infant ear;
And let Him, as we found Him, sleep
Surrounded by poor shepherds, with their lowly sheep.

XXIV
The sullen clouds have fled,
By day’s sweet brightness led;
And in my heart I find a welcomed bliss;
For while the Infant dreams,
The nooning Sun now beams
And on my burgeoning garden leans to kiss
The warming earth and interpose
With crowning Iris spears, the Lily, and the Rose.