Archangels in the Moon Garden on Christmas Morn

Archangels in the Moon Garden on Christmas Morn

 

 

The flowers in whitest rows set forth their white

Perfume beside the Great Rift Valley on

The day that Christ was born.  A rose’s might

Is all that they can muster in this dawn

Of Kenya.  That is strong enough, though.  Beds

In shapes of moons, in slivers, quarters, whole

Moons, open out their petals on the heads

Of roses like archangels’ wings or bowl

Of frankincense or myrrh held out by kings.

A black one, Balthazar, stands higher than

The others.  Only Mary brings high things

Enough to overshadow him, this man.

  In Africa white blossoms open out.

    Archangel petals stretch more wide than doubt.