by Patrick J. Walsh
In the coolness of the evening, in the bright lights of the
season, in the tableau with the lamb and the star, the night wind whispers a
promise to the broken heart:
He will bring us goodness and light…
Sometimes when I walk in the park, I feel like the shepherd
boy, listening, straining to hear the song above the trees, swelled to the
bigness of the sea by a chorus of angelic voices:
He will bring us goodness and light…
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| © Patrick J. Walsh |
In the warm embrace of nature, knowing the trees as if by
name, I hear the words…
As I walk I wonder if I am doing all I might do to bring
goodness to others. I think of the efficiency of earthly monarchs in reaching
people everywhere with the message for which I am but the merest conveyance:
He will bring us goodness and light…
And in the warm embrace of nature, knowing the trees as if
by name as well as by their botanical lineage, and aware of the animals all
around, I hear the words as they echo like gold and silver bells rung on the
wind, as precious as peace among men:
He will bring us goodness and light…
In the warmth of the bright summer, the fresh breath of
spring, the melancholy whim of fall, and, as now, in the aching grasp of winter
sadness, there is an affinity among these leaves and this sky and these beasts
for the flora of the Nativity tableau, the perpetual glow of the manger, and
the enduring story of the stable and the lowly animals that shared in that long
ago celebration of the birth that is renewed in so many lives each December:
The Child, the Child, sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light
© Patrick J. Walsh
I admire how you manage to continue your walks in the park no matter how difficult the journey becomes. Thank you for the continuing beauty of your words. I pray for a peaceful New Year for you and yours.
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