By Jessamyn Rains
The star shines on long nights
over dark earth, silent trees,
past the sting of judgment in the wind.
The radio rings “Gloria” through towns and cities,
over streetlights, traffic lights,
shining lights of screens
and every book on every shelf sings “Hosanna.”
The children wander home,
full of thorns.
The magi follow the trace–
a faint line on the page of history–
past the angel with the flaming sword
past the opening and closing of doors
with the sad softness of winds
and moons and memory.
And the good and the bad–
the young and the old–
the harlots, rioters, politicians sing–
“He shall reign forever and ever.”