In the Child’s Whisper My Savior Calls

“Dedicated to Fay Josephine and Ireland Bradi; whose tiny fingers, soft eyelashes, and quick smiles, helped these words flow from my heart.” 

In total darkness I stand.

Earnestly searching, for what has awoken me.

At the stable, I find myself wanting to enter.

While the world hides under the cloudy skies

a star twinkles and twirls

and finds itself shinning brightly,

farther into the stable.

A hush of breath escapes my lips,

as I attentively come around the corner.

For I worry that the




will awake the child.


The light shines around him, and I am puzzled.

Why here, why will it not go farther?

This quivering, innocent child, why does it stop upon his face.


The child who now,

it’s little fingers could barely grasp my hand.

The child who soon,

will take mankind in it’s embrace.

This child, while dozing softly in his mother’s arms

is the Messiah.


Carefully but certainly I shake my head,

knowing that I cannot present myself to him.

I have no cloak to cover my dirty shoulders;

to hide the misery I have seen, and the tragedy I cannot leave.

I have no hat, to hide my unwashed hair;

nor are my thoughts and actions so pure.

I have no animal to present,

nothing worthy of something

I know is far better than myself.



I cannot move.


selfishly I do not want to,

from his tiny smile

that touches the far corners of my heart

that had never felt such warmth,

beckons me to stay.


Suddenly, I’m not alone

and others clamber around him.

I’m shuffled to the back,

and know my exit is here.



Let the little children, 



I stumble and look about

but the hum of the voice continues.



All who are weary, 




Looking up at the star,

now understating why I’m awake.

I walk forward with my drum,

striking it to the beat of my pounding heart.





Let anyone 






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