Luke's Lullaby
Far from our comforts,
Out of the way,
Here you are lying
Upon meagre hay.
Not like the angel
Implied it would be,
Israel's Messiah
Born in poverty:
Manger for cradle,
Such a wild start,
Rock with my singing,
Rock in my heart.
Long journeys over
Back to the loom,
All the dear things
In our own little room.
Sharp the priest's warning,
Sharper by far
That my heart should bleed
Because of who you are:
Manger for cradle,
Routine restored,
At least for the present,
My son and my Lord.
Think of the angel,
The star shining bright:
Laugh with the shepherds,
Jesus, Goodnight!