I know some of you may not share the same religious beliefs as do I, but I thought I'd share this Christmas poem I recently wrote and posted on my blog(http://from-the-adamah.blogspot.com). Let's not forget.
Christmas is coming
Two tired, modest travelers--
well, three: One undelivered,
soon to be delivered
the two and the rest of the world--
knock on the door.
The bells jingle as it opens--crack of light--
a face pokes through--the door of
one inn: too good and no room within
for the two (three).
Please, she's pregnant. The baby is coming.
Well, see, all I have is a place for the animals.
Unless--a little extra cash?
Well, you can stay
with the trash.
I'm sorry; it's all I have.
The two (plus One coming) come
to the stable. As they settle in, bells jingle--
someone's money bags sound louder than the lack of vacancy.
Honey, He's coming. The one promised by the angel Gabriel
and the Prophets. Should the Great Messiah begin in this barn?
How can I bring forth the Savior
in this formless stable?
There is no majesty here--oh!--He's coming.
As the baby came, so did the shepherds.
The poor to worship
the King coming in poverty;
shepherds to worship
the Shepherd who came.
What's His name?
His name is Jesus, as the angel said.
Scholars from the sun's rising came
to see the rising King: the Son
who came in poverty.
These men gave lavish gifts--
the rich to worship
the King coming in poverty;
wise men to worship
the Wisdom who came.
Christmas is coming! and the jingle bells jingle
with the toyshop bells and Walmart carts wheeling--
for what? For Christmas, of course! 'Tis the season of
buying. Billions-worth of debt, throwing our money away
for destructible things. Sure, we worship the King--
we give presents to our family and friends!
Isn't that the spirit of Christmas? Giving!
Laying up treasures for each other
(and some here and there for ourselves--
it's Christmas for Me, too, after all)
until their trees are stuffed. Santa Claus' sack
couldn't pack enough for our kids.
Or our friends. Or Me.
It's Christmas, after all.
So the rich have room for the rich,
building up their own riches
(but we don't worship our wealth!)--
would there be room in your house for the two (three)--
coming in poverty? One poor man knocks at your door
one Christmas eve.
Well, gee, all I have is a place for my car.
You could sleep there--
but hey, there's a shelter not far from here.
I have other guests on the way. I'm sure you understand.
So Rich turns away an angel, unaware,
and as he hasn't done it for the least of these,
so hasn't he done it for the One who came.
The Christ of Christmas came, furious,
to His Father's temple:
the house of prayer made into the robbers' den--
religion gone to market.
Christ came to God's holy temple to
cleanse it from their master
that there may be room again for the Master.
They cannot serve God and money.
No, not Herod's. Or didn't you know?
God dwells within your hearts,
if there's room within for the Three(One).
Be cleansed, and come.
the rich, to realize their poverty,
the One who came in poverty,
Who owns all.
Christ is coming and will claim His own:
the poor in spirit--
they have little to show here;
and it shows how much they have in heavenly treasures.
Christmas is coming! and the jingle bells jingle--
are they loud enough to drown out the sound--
the cry of the lonely, the poor:
I clean animal filth off the streets just to eat.
And I have not heard of the One who came.
Books, poems, stories and other tales!
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