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    Morning over the bay

    Two Poems for Christmas

    By Melissa Rhoads, Miriam Mathis

    December 24, 2013
    • Hillel Brandes

      I like to think the harmonies come from the inherent, glorious beauty of the Creation.

    • joe schmitt

      let's hope the harmony we hear from earth comes from cymbols & harps and not bombs.

    The Broken

    Melissa Rhoads

    Alone through stench and cold
    Barren rock-carved hillside for the fold
    One of the broken
    Battered and wolf-torn –
    Yet for these is Christ born.

    Alone in blameless virginity
    The Lord’s handmaid through faithful clarity
    One of the broken
    Humble and heart-torn –
    Yet for these is Christ born.

    Alone on the census road
    God’s hand, a weighty load
    One of the broken
    Dusty and anxiety-worn –
    Yet for these is Christ born.

    Alone in undulating sands
    Gifts clutched in exhausted hands
    One of the broken
    Sunburnt and desert-worn –
    Yet for these is Christ born.

    Alone through the guilt-laden night
    Heart wrung in piercing starlight
    One of the broken
    Satiated and wealth-worn –
    Yet for these is Christ born.

    Alone before the manger tonight
    Heart’s peace your presence ignites
    One of the broken
    Weak and life-worn –
    Yet also for me is Christ born.

    Harmonies in Heaven

    Miriam Mathis

    Are there sounds we cannot hear
    That resound in the heavenly sphere?

    Take a look at that sunrise spire
    That shoots to the zenith, an orange fire.
    Does it sound like a trumpet blast
    To the watching angels at their task?

    How often we miss a wonder of light
    Because we weren’t expecting the sight!

    “How silently, how silently,
    the wondrous gift is given.
    So God imparts to human hearts
    the blessings of his heaven.”

    Did the hosts of God who dwell
    In endless space beyond our time
    Hear hallelujahs flung abroad
    When Christ was born, the Son of God?

    Many a miracle is silent to us –
    The grateful smile of a homeless child;
    The flutter of heart when we apologize;
    The love and joy in my brother’s eyes.

    Maybe in heaven we will hear
    The harmonies that rise from earth:
    The mighty organ, the tinkling bells,
    That speak again of the Savior’s birth.

    Nativity by Gerard van Honthorst Detail from "Nativity" by Gerard van Honthorst