The silver globe hung on the tree, reflecting colors of room and lights, hiding secrets all its own. Child knelt and pointed awestruck at camels and kings that twinkled inside. Shepherds stood with sheep on straw like gold.
Child's knees felt cool dry sand beneath, night-sand. His nose smelled fire. Lambs bleated, cows lowed soft and voices murmured, “Where’s the king?”
But, “Where am I?”
Then babe in manger pointed too, where shadowed door hid darkly, scarcely seen. Child pushed it ajar. He found a room behind and saw himself before a silver globe, tree-hung and whispering, truth by star.