This night
in lambing time,
He came
to fields dusted
green with new
sprout and blade,
each hill dotted
white with newborn fleece
beneath the hosanna sky,
in a hushed and holy darkness
before the dawn
of the birth
of hope.
Hope a fleece,
a sprout, a blade,
hope the upturned eye—
the hope of worlds
this Christbirth night
awaits the morning sky.