Cold and clear, every star shining
the old barn door caught my eye-
Christmas Eve, silent and holy-
It's not Bethlehem, but peace is nigh-
Not a sound could be heard;
Was this the hour of his birth?
There were no trials in this moment for me-
just a soulful joy; and a quiet earth
A cooing dove in the dark of night;
Was it the voice of the Wise Men, Three?
A breeze fell lightly upon my cheek; but
not a leaf would stir that I could see
The shutters squeaked in high pitch
Was this the cry of the infant child?
A sigh slipped whisperingly through my lips;
and again went silent and mild
Shadows formed around the yard;
Was this the Angels that hovered near?
I felt a warmth surge through my soul-
then filled my eyes with tears
The old porch swing rocked back and
Was this the manger in which he slept?
A winter's night frost covered the ground;
while I stood there and wept
The sun rose brightly above the trees;
Was this his shining light?
It was the celebration of hope and promise;
on a long ago, Christmas Eve night