‘Twas the Night

Silent night,
holy night.
Stars whisper:
the earth is pregnant.

All is calm,
all is bright.
Beneath indigo skies,
scurrying insects
quiet restless feet;
lowing cattle
lift ruminating heads;
blue-black night birds, wide-eyed,
scan the darkness.
The earth is pregnant.

Silent night
holy night.
We stop
confess, perhaps.
a filling moon
We sing.





Author: Jill Crainshaw

I am a professor at Wake Forest University School of Divinity and an ordained PCUSA minister.

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