Christmas, 2022
There is the Christ
of a minister's coffer
a Christ of the theater's
show-time
a Christ bought and sold~
the merchant's patron saint
Then, there is the Christ of
the heart eternal...who I've
met at the breast of a mother
with her newborn, His infant
essence~ her labored reward –
the Christ I've seen in the
under-paid nurse, standing in
the shadow of higher accolade
seen Him dismembered, yet
clearly, on battlefields in places
foreign to those blessed selfless'
sighs
sat at the foot of His Throne,
all healed, angels singing praise
while extending His Hand, saying
that I should rise: “Glory to God,
in His Highest!”~ no-longer any
fear left in me, seeing only love in
my Brother's Divinely Beckoning
Eyes.
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