Awakening to wonder - Words of Joy
It was 2 am according to the clock. Insomnia was stealing sleep as usual. I lay quietly thinking, alternately restlessly wriggling and praying. A few words whispered their way into my head. Became embedded in the place where poetry is birthed. And as I mulled over them I thought back (via my imagination) to another night, over 2000 years ago. To a hillside, bleak and stark against the sky, where shepherds gathered in the dark, leaning on their crooks, stamping feet and blowing on hands to keep warm in a night devoid of heat. No 24/7 neon-lit, constant-buzz-of-activity night for them. All