Now that the angels all have gone away
The shepherds, too, with them
Staffs no longer rattling on paving stones;
And those old fog-eyed men
With sand in their beards,
They, too, have disappeared
Like their auger bones
Cast into the eastern horizon.
And now I can’t remember the song from the ruptured sky.
Only the words, though I thought I never would forget that;
Could teach it to the Child,
Could remember where it went up
What the pitches were
Every word
Every note
But it has disintegrated into a chant
I mumble to myself, and to
Him
Glory
Peace
Savior
Look! He has found His voice.
He is searching for his Hands,
One seeking the other,
Both seeking His mouth.
Some day He will remind me
Some day He will rejoice over me with singing
Every word
Every note
© Latayne C. Scott
