Christmas Poem

This is our twenty-second annual Christmas poem. Almost all have been written specifically for Christmas, most in the year they were sent. But this year demanded retrieving an old one...some of you have read it...some more than once. But it is my offering, humbly given. We wish for you all the blessings of the season. It is my fervent belief that God is ever seeking to speak to us...not watching, but reaching out...not waiting to pounce on the naughty, nor simply rewarding the nice, but longing to commune with us...all of us, and ever longing to see us live in community with each other. God does not shout us down or quash us in an angry hand. In the quietness of a snow flurry, God speaks to us, that still, small, voice, soft as a single snowflake:

Alone, awash amidst this sea of spruce

And pine I sit. Into the rising fog

I gaze as if to see some mystic realm.

Enchantment drew me to this holy hill

By promising a glimpse of heaven's bliss,

But haze and heavy clouds obscure my view.

The gloom, my doom it is, I think, to see.

What is it like to dream of future days

And not of nightmares past? The wintry blasts

Come howling through my brain. Yet on the winds

Of pain a solitary snowflake floats.

Someday the snow will fall and bury all

My shame beneath its pristine flow, and I

Will know at last a season of new hope.

This is the promise of the manger.

Merry Christmas!