An Advent Choice

It’s cold and it’s quiet
On this midwinter night
On a hill side near Beth’lem
Beneath the star light.

Behind the stone walls
I hear shuffling of sheep
As I pull my cloak tight
And try hard to sleep.

I’m the only one left
Putting wood on the fire;
Don’t hold with that talk
Of a heavenly choir.

“Bah, humbug” I said
Of the sound so serene,
“It’s no angel choir,
It’s naught but a dream.”

“It’s nonsense, this talk
Of a babe down below,
Of a king in a stable
‘Midst thick winter snow.”

“There’s work to do here,
There’s a flock here to guard.”
But they laughed and ran down
To that rude stable yard

I sigh and I think,
“If there was a king,
How would I go
When I’ve nothing to bring?”

“I’m only a shepherd
Dirty and poor,
What king would allow me
A foot through the door?”

“And how can a baby
Asleep in a byre
Be the prophesied one,
The anointed Messiah?”

“It doesn’t make sense;
It’s a mystery to me,
How a baby can save
Can set people free.”

I stare at the light
In the valley below.
I need to discover;
I’m hungry to know

If it’s true what they say;
If this baby will save
The rich and the poor
From the bonds of the grave.

So I rise and I hurry
Through new-falling snow
Down to that stable
That welcoming glow.

My hands are quite empty,
My heart it does sing
With joy at the prospect
Of meeting my king.