at the darkest, deadest, depressed
holiness yeasted a light,
a glimmer, slowly seen,
and then hope burned,
and knowing slowly caught.
This is Christmas, light and dark,
and natures' canvas dims,
paints the inner meaning,
born in a cave.
The first etch of Redemtion.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
Comments about this poem (Christmas Light by Bernard Kennedy )
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