The very word Christ has that thin, crisp sound so suggestive of frost and snow and the small sheets of ice that crack and splinter under our feet, even as the Host is broken in the priest’s fingers. ~ R. S. Thomas

Song

I choose white, but with
Red on it, like the snow
In winter with its few
Holly berries and the one

Robin, that is a fire
To warm by and like Christ
Comes to us in his weakness,
But with a sharp song.

~ by R. S. Thomas
from H’m (1972).

And here is another song — this one sung.

~ The Wexford Carol, Yo-Yo Ma & Alison Krauss