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Behind the Grindstone: Born in the Night

By Bill Bunting

December 14, 2022

The night is dark— as the herders sleep
Trusting in—the dogs to keep

The wolves away—the coyotes too
The things that dogs—are trained to do

The sheep were penned—in the stone coral
The breeze on the night—whispering all is well

When the stillness that had fallen—cross the land
Was suddenly broken—by an angel band

Sudden like—a lightning bolt
The herders wake—with a jolt

And they are bathed—in a beam of light
A light they never—saw so bright

And music played—upon their ears
Gentle, soothing—easing fears

So they knelt—in the light
Surrounded by—the darkest night

Wondering at—what this could mean
These things that—they had just seen

The music rose—the music fell
Then the heavens—seemed to swell

And they swelled and swelled—till they gave birth
To the chorus of heaven—given to earth

By thousands of angels—across the night air
Singing in harmony—songs angels share

Singing of hope—- and of peace and of joy
Singing of the birth—of a baby boy

God Himself has—come to earth
The virgin now—has given birth

Follow the angel—come and see
The baby born—to set man free

Shepherds following—the angel in awe
Not understanding—all they had saw

Thinking and puzzling—as they wandered on down
Stopping at a barn—on the wrong side of town

The door was slid open—so they could go in
Never did they—see the angel again

And there he was—in the manger of straw
And they knelt before—the baby they saw

Cause this was the child—that caused the angels sing
Our Lord, our Messiah, our Savior and King

At least, that’s the view here from behind the grindstone.

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