Theophany

This Christmas time is here at last

As it has come in times long past

The air is chilled, the roadway glassed

And yet I am forlorn

A child walks across the street

I see the print left by his feet

He hurries on - his friends to meet

I watch and I am torn

I know he hurries on to church

The choir loft to be his perch

My eyes look up in endless search

An angel sounds the horn

And as they all begin to sing

The children's voices sweetly ring

The joyful sounds of caroling

Upon this Christmas morn

A host of angels from the loft

Do utter heavenly anthems soft

But I draw tight, as I have oft,

This mantle I have worn

The visions that draw nigh to me

Are little comfort for you see

What I once thought was meant to be

Was never to be borne

Then comes to me in vision clear

Angelic guidance drawing near

My mantle does he take to bear

Beneath his crown of thorn

My soul rings out from blessed cure

And feels the blessing of the pure

And knows the love with feelings sure

No longer will I mourn