Like bright lights shining, twinkling, in the early
Morning sky the stars lit up,
Brightening, a Christmas morning.
They were all there, thrown up,
Like clutched from a bucket of hope
And thrown to stay in ready sky.
As if Christmas morning in Rathfarnham.
Going to early mass, my mother pointing out
The silhouettes of God, as we broke ice puddles
With new heels.
Lucent and bright, the chapel lit.
The choir, the candles, and golden bowls
And vestments. All things shining,
All things yellow gold and twinkling, like the stars,
In the same hope filled sky.
The mystery and wonder, and then Santa Claus.
Stars shine in the trees like fairy lights
And I, wondering at the
Mystery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Atheist in write and words, well I am not sure Sir how far you understood the mystery of Salvation