Yes, cows do kneel at midnight in the creche,
one minute panting hymns upon the Child,
the next they amble back to pastures lit by stars
who peer, a-giggle, over crests of hills
to spy into the shadowed stable for their presents.
I am among the cows, I have believed.
I have adjured the devil and his seasons ordinary
to embrace the real and consubstantial Kneel.
Again I’m gifted with that annual glimpse,
That single suprasensual sight this night
to backlight all my rods and cones all year.
My mind is upside down, delightedly,
yet keeps straight faces for adults
so forward questions to your own damn stars.
If you can find them.
TimothyOne 