It is indeed a silent night.
Shepherds are getting short-sighted in fright.
The world is missing its light.
But, for this one day.
There is a chunk of the world that's radiating towards you.
Their light, prayers and wishes are aimed at you.
Even 'The' Shepherd will part the clouds, for some blue.
For you're swaying in the free wind, his favourite kite.
It is indeed a holy night.
YOU ARE READING
The Good place
PoetryThis is a collection of all the poems I've written about everything I'm curious about and more. Literal pitstop is the pen name I write under on WordPress and Instagram.
