The Looping Pigeon

an image of that Manger...

A little bird takes credit

For one particular night

His family all made fun of him

For his peculiar flight

With one wing short

And one too long

He looped and curved mid-air

And moreso when excited

No straight trips anywhere.

And that Night something special

A stable perch for all

Behind the Inn

With lodging thin

For travelers come to call.

The call had been a census

To count the simple folk

A weary inconvenience

Beneath a Roman yoke.

And in this barn a couple

The woman large with child

Their only chance at nursery

The Mother sweet and mild.

And pigeons strained to witness

A wondrous birthing sight

Celestial music beckoned

This clear and chilly night.

The shuffling on the rafter

Each bird pressed to his friend

Until the looping pigeon

Was pushed right off the end!

The launch so very shocking

Then out the window too

And flapping, arching, curving

Was all that he could do.

Beyond the Inn, across the square

And down through lane-ways tight

The misdirected pigeon

Was sure a curious sight.

And sight even to shepherds

Down from the hills to see

A babe of royal promise

To set their people free.

Some angels had directed

Some stall in Bethlehem

The place of His arrival

And so dispatched the men.

And here they were

The Town for sure

But where the Hope of men?

The wee bird held the answer

As he regained his poise

And made his straightest homeward flight

To happy manger noise

The sheep would bleat contentment

The cattle mooing peace

The pigeon gained his rafter perch

The World, a soul’s release.