A sparkle, light years off, remote.
A candle glimmering in the dark,
Beyond our reach, elusive, stark.
Angels have wings with which to soar
Those heights we can but hanker for.
We have no means to bring heaven low
To scan its incandescent glow.
Yet mercy constrained that glorious Light
To bring His day into our night.
Yes, heaven came down in one small babe,
Who in a cattle trough was laid.
Few were awake, few saw that dawn,
Few saw beyond that tiny form.
And still today few wake and see
What God still offers you and me.
HPW ©
God bless you all,
Howard Webber
Bournemouth, England
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