Christmas Photographer

Kartasheva N.

I am unselfish and naive
Love at Christmas night
The stars of the eight-pointed wondrous
Me flying rays.
When the whole Church freezes,
Opened The Royal Gates,
Is, earth does not hurt
Winged angel. And mouth
Not moving, but pouring sounds,
Here the sky descended to earth,
Blessing hands
I feel it on my forehead.
And the smell of incense and spruce,
Candles living lights,
And the fear that weightlessness in the body —
From touching hands.
I walk into the world with this miracle —
Long enough! And all!
The Holy Night shines in the stars,
And glitter falls on the snow.