by Bob Mundle

Created on: December 24, 2011

The Memory of the Star

I saw the Christmas star
Alone, diamond-bright,
Lighting the December night.

What secrets must be locked
In that ancient heart?
What dreams linger there?

Of guiding travellers
From far-flung Eastern lands
Camel trains ‘cross desert sands;

Of humble shepherd lads
Leaving flocks unguarded
To seek the truth God imparted;

Of the poor and needy
Who came with hope and awe
To gaze through that stable door

At the blessed holy child
Cradled by his mother, eyes wide
With curiosity and wonder

Infant eyes, aged, wise;
New-born, but old as the skies;
Old as the memory of the star

God made to light the way
To Heaven, that first Christmas Day.

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