The warm-sweet smell of cattle filled the air
In tiny bower, lit with just one lamp.
A mother smiled, with hayseed in her hair,
And clothed her child to ward Him from the damp.

Her liquid eyes sought for her husband's face,
Through dark and smoke which from the lampwick curled.
His tears shone bright, with knowledge of the grace
His precious wife had helped bring to the world.

Their gazes met, and understanding flowed.
No word was spoken, silence filled the night
With love so strong, it seemed their faces glowed,
And filled the stable with their inner light.

Then they remembered when the Child was born,
The joyous sounds that drifted from above,
How the sky filled with light like brilliant morn,
Burst asunder, and showered them with love.

How all the visitors from far and wide,
Their eyes still filled with all that loving light,
Came to kneel and pray there by their Son's side,
As though blessed to be in the Infant's sight.

The wonder of that night had left her weak,
A vessel emptied, snuggling her prize.
Feather-light a tiny hand stroked her cheek,
She turned her gaze, and fell into His eyes.

Mick McKellar
November 2004