And Finally: The journey of the magi (cont.)

Some have seen these Magi on the Underground and elsewhere throughout London.

 © Godfrey Rust, www.wordsout.co.uk.

Coming as they did from the first century 

they had a few problems with London traffic

and were seriously misled by signs 

to the Angel and King's Cross.

Inquiring diligently about the star 

they were referred to Professor Brian Cox, 

who thought it was amazing 

 while smiling in a constant and strangely unsettling way.

In Harrods the camels 

 made a mess over Soft Furnishings.

 On the Underground commuters 

glared at No Smoking signs 

as incense wafted gently through the carriages,

and when the great day came 

they saw the entire voting population 

slumped on sofas by four o'clock, 

rendered senseless by too much 

dead poultry and the Queen,

while over Liberty's and Hamley's 

the flickering angels sang 

Glory to God in the High St

and they found him, 

with the inns full up once more, 

 in the old familiar place, 

bringing their unregarded gifts to the empty stable  

of the human heart 

where the infant Christ 

is born again and again.

Godfrey Rust (born 1953) is a poet, singer-songwriter and acoustic guitarist from west London whose work is mainly associated with Christian genres and is much appreciated by the [somewhat] more eccentric of our congregation.  It is several years since his poetry was used in our Reflections.

 Twelfth Night is not until Tuesday.  Here is a gift for Tolkien readers.

Noel

by J.R.R. Tolkien

Grim was the world and grey last night: The moon and stars were fled, The hall was dark without song or light, The fires were fallen dead. The wind in the trees was like to the sea, And over the mountains’ teeth It whistled bitter-cold and free, As a sword leapt from its sheath.

The lord of snows upreared his head; His mantle long and pale Upon the bitter blast was spread And hung o’er hill and dale. The world was blind, the boughs were bent, All ways and paths were wild: Then the veil of cloud apart was rent, And here was born a Child.

The ancient dome of heaven sheer Was pricked with distant light; A star came shining white and clear Alone above the night. In the dale of dark in that hour of birth One voice on a sudden sang: Then all the bells in Heaven and Earth Together at midnight rang.

Mary sang in this world below: They heard her song arise O’er mist and over mountain snow To the walls of Paradise, And the tongue of many bells was stirred in Heaven’s towers to ring When the voice of mortal maid was heard, That was mother of Heaven’s King.

Glad is the world and fair this night With stars about its head, And the hall is filled with laughter and light, And fires are burning red. The bells of Paradise now ring With bells of Christendom, And Gloria, Gloria we will sing That God on earth is come.

Not in the layout of the poem but easy to see the verse form.