By Caitlin Magness
How could that city have gone on sleeping
beneath the stars hung by your mighty hand?
How could the shepherds have gone on keeping
their watch, not knowing that what you had planned
had come to pass? Creation now is lifted,
assumed into the glory of your Head.
The tides of entropy now have shifted,
fullness of Being in a manger bed.
How could I not have realized you were here
with me, as surely as you reign above,
calling me out of nothingness and fear,
back to the contemplation of your Love?
All that I see here now reflects your face
and sings back: All is grace. All is grace.
Caitlin is the daughter of a family of Lutheran musicians and church workers. She is an aspiring novelist, college student, and thinker of too many thoughts. She lives in Oklahoma with her family.