From 2014. Lately revised.
A Carol
It is the eve of Christmas Eve,
And cities move in breathless haste
Looking for some space to relieve
The mind's distress, the spirit's waste.
Come, Holy Child: help us believe.
We count the hours until the day
When wisdom shall appear enfleshed
Within a manger thick with hay
To make our wounded world refreshed.
Come, Holy Child: do not delay.
O come, Emmanuel, O King,
O Dawn that scatters darkness drear:
Come in the silence, whisper, sing,
And bless your creatures far and near.
Come, Holy Child, our flourishing.
Love all poor bumblers back to grace;
Gentle the hearts of sage and fool;
Make tender now the hardened face;
Bring potentates beneath your rule.
Come, Holy Child: our pride abase.
O beauteous Mary, bravest bride,
And silent Joseph, stalwart, strong,
Pray that our fearful souls might bide
In life and light before too long.
Come, Holy Child: be at our side.
Poetry by Uncle Meridian
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Written on 2021-12-21 at 11:27
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Lawrence Beck |