December 12, 2011
Frozen midwinter
stars glint, silently watching
them approach my gate.

He is tired as
he holds the donkey's bridle,
beyond exhaustion.

She, a round vessel
with worried eyes, silently
pleads, "Just one small room."

I too am tired.
They are not the first to come
far too late for warmth.

My rooms have been filled,
and I am concerned with much.
They can not stay here.

And yet, what room I
lack in my inn opens in
my heart for these two.

It is dark and cold,
and they are weary, heavy
with many burdens.

"I have one place," I
reply, "but it is outside.
I'm afraid we're full."

With shining eyes filled,
they follow to my stable:
a hut and manger.

I leave them alone,
wishing I had room on such
a night as this one.

I send my son to
give them bread and a blanket.
I have more work now.

It is not much, but
I have given what I can
with no room to spare.

posted by Gwennifer at 3:38 PM |



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