Star Song

We have been having 
epiphanies like suns,
all this year long.
And now, at its close 
when the planets 
are shining through frost,
light runs
like music in the bones, 
and the heart keeps rising 
at the sound of any song. 
An old magic flows at the silver calling 
of a bell, rounding, 
high and clear, flying, falling,
sounding the death knell 
of our old year,
the new appearing 
of Christ, our Morning Star.