Stories: A Thought
Displaying 1 - 1 of 1 -- Add Story
Manger is too soft a word
For a cave or whatever housed animals.
Not inviting at all—straw or whatever
Bedding there was matted and animal-fouled.
Yet in such a place, some lesser gate, He came.
Abraham’s Seed, Firstborn, Immanuel, The Word,
Our Messiah. Our Surety.
And as I sit this December
In my decorated home I wonder and still look to
The moon, hoping to see it a reluctant prince to a new star.
I don’t need a sign, but it would be nice for assurance
As this camel tries to crawl through the needle’s eye
Hoping to find my way Home, perhaps through a lesser gate.
List All | Add Story