The tiny porcelain Magi underneath my Christmas tree
Were bearing treasures for the little child they longed to see.
Were bearing treasures for the little child they longed to see.
One of them nodded, smiled at me--and then I watched him wink!
I thought, how can this be? I didn't know what to think.
I know you're sure I've lost my mind, for none of it makes sense.
But I was resting, meditating; and, in my defense,
The story came alive; oh my, and it was quite intense!
I found myself among them, holding frankincense!
~
My treetop seraph fluttered and began to sing a song:
"The Babe is born in Bethlehem, ye shepherds; run along."
The shepherds boarded my toy train, then ran quick as they could
Toward the stable and animals, all made of wood.
My spirit apprehended it; my doubtful mind refused.
You know, I must admit I really felt a bit confused.
What should one say or do when a treetop angel descends
And shouts, "Don't be afraid; you are now among friends!"?
~
The spellbound shepherds knelt before the infant Son of God,
Their L.E.D-lit eyes star-struck, their weightless spirits awed.
My toy train made its way around the tree again and stopped.
Santa fell from his sleigh! Twelve Christmas tree balls popped!
Just then, a choir of angels started belting out a hymn!
They danced upon the toy train--that's when my sight grew dim.
Was it a dream? It felt so real! I'm sure I was awake!
Oh, why did I have three helpings of rum-drenched fruitcake?
© 2020 David Acosta
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