Silence (A Nativity Poem)

“The Virgin brought forth the Saviour… may we bring forth praise also. Let us not be sterile; let our souls be full of fruitfulness in the Lord.” –St. Augustine of Hippo

Hushed lay the town; the night was still,

No door ajar in Bethlehem,

Though soft through street and over hill

Passed news of hope through nighttime dim:

“Your King is born within your walls—

Come, worship now his humble state!”

Yet none will hear; cold starlight falls

On doorstep dark, on fast-barred gate.

And silent as the sleeping town, so silent lies belief.

In moonlit fields the shepherds kneel;

The angels’ song thrills through their hearts.

So, praising God with fervent zeal,

To stable-court they thence depart.

Still glower doors and windows dark,

Though shepherds pipe and chant outside;

No man will wake, this joy to mark—

The Light is come, yet still they hide.

So silent as the dreaming town, as silent lies belief.

Hark now, there chimes a golden bell:

The orient mages haste afar

To hail the LORD of Israel,

To laud him ‘neath his natal star–

Still all their perfumes of the east

Awaft throughout the little town

Can raise no head from sullen rest;

No heart partakes their benison.

And we are silent as the town–how silent our belief!

For we are those whose doors are barred,

And we forsake this humble Lord;

The dreamers: we who disregard

This Christ who should be most adored.

The town is still, but must we be?

Is doubt our only offering?

No; we must praise this babe we see

Lest mute, we drive the stones to sing.

Now freed by grace from unbelief

Our stubborn stillness finds relief:

We hear and praise in glad belief

This God made man, our King.