The Coming of the Christ

The Coming of the Christ

“So be it that this tiny hand

That waves amidst the straw

Be subject to the cruel commands

Of brutal Roman law.

So be it that the jerking arms

That flail in sweet unrest,

Be the arms flung open wide –

Nailed from East to West.

So be it that this beating heart

Of innocent-sure rhythm

Be the heart that bleeds and breaks

To bring its Loves to Heaven.

So be it that this peaceful brow

That held Glory’s position

Be the brow that’s pierced by thorns

In place of Man’s perdition.

So be it that this sleeping face

Of childly beauty, pure,

Be contorted in grievous pain

To provide Man’s sin a cure.

“A miracle, is it not, My Spirit!

Myself laid in a byre –

Small and weak –human flesh –

Reliant on another.

But I shall grow – and with favour!

Before Me and man itself:

My Son, wise and great in stature,

And yet like any other.

See Him comforting Outcast and Poor,

See Him caringly the rich implore,

To abandon Wealth and ties of earth;

To follow Him; love Him – He of king’s birth.