Now that the Advent season has begun, I think I have finished my Christmas poems but if any readers have ideas that they would like me to pursue, please pass them on. It has been a lot of fun!
The series of poems can be found under “The Christmas Poems” category. Or click the link.
Pieter
They laughed behind their hands
when we set off.
Our camels loaded.
What will it be?
A king?
A child?
A what?
We headed westward
with anticipation
and gifts.
The omen was clear
shining in the sky –
our compass and guide.
All of our studies seemed
true.
But
what if we found
no child
no king?
Could we return?
Our reputations a joke!
But “something”
was felt by us all
as we travelled
the long miles west.
We found a king
in Jerusalem.
Too old,
Too mean,
Too unwise.
We vowed not
to return this way.
We stargazed on
and came
to a man, woman and child.
No pretensions.
Humble
Joyfilled
poor
but ALIVE!
Then we knew!
We were sure!
The child, king , messiah
was found.
We could return home
with stories
with hope
… and our reputations.
A blank slate
waiting for a life to be written over me.
I’m new, fresh
longing to know love
and family,
hope, home and future.
Mum, dad,
what will you write?
Will it be with intention
with hope and vision?
Will it be in the warm love
of family?
Will you tell me
where the limits are,
the boundaries,
beyond which I may be hurt
and mis-shaped?
Will you show me
how to be wise;
how to make decisions well,
and how to live life
to the full?
I don’t know
what to expect;
what to be wary of.
Will you tell me,
hold my hand and
warn me,
and love me with a firm love?
Or will you let me walk and wander
on my own,
with no paths,
directions
or guide?
Mum, dad,
what will you do?
“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”). Matt 1:23
We were alert.
The predators are always hungry in these months.
Lamb is always on their menu.
The cold, froze our words.
We were shivering
and then
we were still shivering
but now in fear.
Out of nowhere,
well, the sky really,
this amazing light shone.
Day, in the middle of the night!
Shivering, trembling, cowering.
Paralysed.
Nothing to hide behind –
except sheep.
Even Big Jacob was jelly!
The bright being declared,
“Don’t be afraid,
I’ve come to give you news
of the Christ – the Messiah.”
It’s a baby!
In Bethlehem!
So we bolted for Bethlehem,
The sheep could look after themselves,
for a while.
This news was too good to miss!
We found a mum, dad and baby,
by a feed trough,
and somehow,
as the mum, Mary
showed the baby to us,
we just knew, what the angel said was true.
She held God in her hands!
And our lives, and the world,
Would never be the same
again.
From the series: The Christmas Poems that I am working on at present.
a safe coat
wraps around me
in a warm glow
that streams from within
and radiates
out into the world.
My tongue thrills,
rejoices,
sings “hallelujahs”
of childlike
spontaneous praise,
uttering, babbling, outpouring
words tumbling, end over end,
water rushing over rocks.
Why?
Why? You ask!
Because the
dirt
dark
cold ground
cannot restrain,clamp
or hold
the child of God
in its filthy grip.
The Christ
tore its hold,
ripped open its frozen clutch
from the damp darkness.
Rejoice , Sing,
Shout
Angel praises
of everlasting
thanks!
“Nothing is impossible with God” Luke 1:37
So you think the virgin birth is “miraculous” even impossible, maybe ridiculous. A lie from a silly girl, who should have known better one night. You suppose walking on water, feeding 5000, is a stretch of the imagination.
You laugh at the blind man,
“Here’s mud in your eye!”
You scorn
the tale of the paralysed victim,
and the water into wine …
What vintage?
But wait,
your calloused
“There is no God out there”
heart,
Your snide aside,
the “omnipotent” God. Ha!
He’s dead!
can’t withstand the
scalpel onslaught of His Spirit
when He says,
“You’re mine.”
From the series: The Christmas Poems that I am working on at present.
A short poetic reflection on Matthew 1:18-25
Joseph: What Lord? I can’t believe it! She is a good girl, an honourable girl. She would never betray me! What Lord? I must still marry her! What Lord? Your Spirit! How can that be? Yes Lord. “I will” Yes Lord, His name will be Saviour. Yes Lord, I will.From the series: The Christmas Poems that I am working on at present.
Safe Home Coming
Travels from Ur 