Night Sky

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One star,
which few pay attention to,
dominating a sky
over fields of thirsty brown grass.

They labor
with care only for food and rest.
Few have heard the promises.
None have sought to seek.

Maybe a curse is spoken.
Maybe the illumination
in the night sky
is too bright.

Was there singing?
Voices in harmony,
beautiful.
A chorus of wings,
christening the night with glory.

Are words spoken to your heart
or ears?
Is there a burning
to seek an answer to a question
you haven’t asked?

Glory to God.
Tonight He has done a great thing.
He has come down into the world of the humble
and called to Himself
the poor.




copyright 2018 - Donald P James Jr

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