I made it to the manger all alone
as winter wind turned “water like a stone.”
The ones who came and worshiped there before
had thought to leave, unlatched, the stable door.
For time my heart had doubted I could come
as darkness dared this path to overcome.
But then within my center shone a star
to light the way to where the blessed are.
Still doubting my own worth to enter in
this safe-room from the howling gales of sin,
I stood without and focused on the glow
of Love light ’luminating o’er the snow.
And then a gentle nudging on the door
by other beasts, their brother to implore,
shed Light of Light upon this very one
who’d wondered if he’d ever see the Son.
When, timidly, I stepped toward the place
a weary world would first encounter Grace,
I so was drawn in mystery to see
a spot beside His bed was saved for me.
And as I knelt, wrapped in the misty shroud
of creature breaths (an all-adoring cloud),
the wind of winter death at once was stilled;
a stony cistern in myself was filled.
For those whose journey seems to them so far
I, too, in leaving left the door ajar.
A night will never be so dark, so cold
to chill the warmth of welcome to His fold.