The Song of the Poor Shepherds: An Advent Hymn

Adoration of the Shepherds by Gerard van Honthorst

Poetry is something I usually don't touch with a ten-foot pole. Personally, I think writing a novel is easier than writing a poem and I've never been good at brevity in my writing. However, every now and then I feel inspired to write a poem and then I work away at it until I'm happy with every word and every placement of those words on a page. I get caught up in imagery and symbolism and somewhere at the end of it all, a poem emerges. My first attempt---a poem celebrating the conversion of St. Maria Goretti's murderer, Alessandro, entitled "Alessandro's Ascent"---was kindly published a few years ago in the wonderful Catholic literary journal, Dappled Things, which (by the way), is greatly in need of financial support if it's going to continue to be published next year.

A couple of weeks ago, while on retreat, I felt that creative stirring again as I sat at a frosted window looking at an intensely blue sky and puffs of white steam rising from nearby houses like incense rising to God. Birds tumbled around the sky, completely oblivious to the cold. From the warmth of my room, I started to think about the "pregnant pause" of the Advent season, the long waiting in the cold for the world's Gift, and the image of the sky and the birds started to intermingle into the first lines of a poem. From there, my imagination leapt back 2000 years to the shepherds who were surprised by the unexpected news of a Messiah born in a manger.

Perhaps it was my recent viewing of the wonderful movie, Jesus of Nazareth, which made me feel such an affinity with these poor men and boys who tripped their way to Bethlehem to see this wondrous thing! In the movie, when the shepherds enter the cave, they're chastised by a bossy old woman whose come in to see to the couple with the new baby. The shepherds, who've come such a distance, stand transfixed at the door, unsure what to do, and obviously feeling the shame of their appearances and their presences in this place. It's as if, in that moment, they are no longer standing in the door way of a soddy, musty cave, but at the entrance of a palace. Only when they tell what they have seen on the hill, does the busy-body move aside and the shepherds sidle in, sheepishly (pun definitely intended!), and worship the baby Jesus. All of these images were swirling around in my mind and the end result was this little Advent meditation called "The Song of the Poor Shepherds"---a song which is, I think, close to all our hearts, whether we realize it or not: the deep-down desire for God. This poem is no masterpiece by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, it's about as rough around the edges as the shepherds themselves were. Nevertheless, I do hope you'll enjoy it!

The Song of the Poor Shepherds: An Advent Hymn

By Heather K. Thompson

December 2010

Beneath this sky of azure blue---

Amidst the song of the birds’ tra-la---
Figures move in expectation,

Wayward hearts in celebration,

Voices blend in adoration.

God is drawing nigh.

On a hill near Bethlehem---

Dotted with the least of men---

Angels split the sky to sing,

“Darkness now has taken wing;

Hasten, then, your joy to ring.

God is drawing nigh!”

Listen as their feet go pounding---

T’wards the wish they dared not dream of---

“Can this thing be but illusion?

Lord, my heart is all confusion.

They said flesh was your solution!

God is drawing nigh?”

Panting, craning at the door---

Cold and stench and a baby’s cry---

Yet the air’s like weighted gold here,

And our breath in wonder hold. Sheer

Child divine in human mould. Clear,

God has now drawn nigh!

Beneath this sky of azure blue---

Advent expectations mount---

Wretched Man in sorrow pining,

On the Heart of Heart’s reclining,

Heavenward, our prayers go sighing.

God has now drawn nigh.