I am elderly, with the baby near;
I am elderly, used to so much cold;
Time is now the equivalent of fear;
No one is comfortable with being old.
 
I watch him, in the stable, broken
here-I boast no gifts, no spices and no
gold,
Only the pain that traps me, and each
tear... And darkness has the sky in its grim
hold,
 
And darkness grips my remnant of a
heart. Winter is pregnant with its agony,
Unleashing clouds, fog ,and mists, from the
start; Still, that child must seem like a star to
me.
Age's freezing terror cuts me apart.
Yet Jesus seems healing, like being free...