Peace and its Possibilities
(“Glory to God in the highest heaven, and
peace on earth to those with whom he is pleased!” Luke 2:14)
The fog disguised the trees as giants,
and made the ashen roof seem like snow.
The horn blew from the river below to
warn the ships and wake the captains.
We did not plan on rising this early.
But the fog lifted as the angels came down,
the stars blinked fire escapes and the moon
directed it beams below.
To be clear, I had never seen an angel.
Never felt an invisible presence so near to me,
speaking so clear to me,
singing with words that drove the fear from me.
To be honest, I have never met a king.
Never stood and bowed before him beneath his marbled throne.
There was a gulf between his pretentious palace
and my pallet beneath the stars.
Working in the fields, we all heard what the angels spoke,
a king born like a pauper, a ruler starting life in the livestock’s
feeding trough.
We told stories once the sun had set, started the
fires to keep us warm,
walked among the sheep, feeding and watering them, and watched
as they dozed to sleep.
There was a second of silence. We took one breath in
unison and then
the skies exploded; the air crystalized the praises that echoed
across the plain. Angels upon angels, wings stirring the sky and
we heard the words from outside of us and inside of us, we were
one with the song and the singers.
Could this peace free us from tyranny; could it
release us from
bondage? Could it build something better than enslavement,
unfetter us from legions of oppression?
We had no choice, given the choreography in the skies,
to seek out this baby king and ponder everything the angels had told us.
We saw him, bundled tightly, his mother lifting him to
her breast and
we thought he was unremarkable. And we thought we could be wrong.
And we sought to understand it, and we hoped to believe it for as
long as we could.
And we went back to our flocks scratching our heads but still
humming the song the angels sang about peace and its possibilities
because of this infant king.
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