Oh Come All Ye Faithful

Somewhere tucked away in a Bethlehem hostel Little Salam sleeps to the sound of the river Jordan Unaware of the narrative of two thousand years Or some glorious eternity still waiting to happen Tucked into nappies donated by the United Nations Who cannot make up their mind which peace to break Some say it is Christmas while others call it a mess Birthed under battle drums he clutches what is Three kings fight over the baby with the conviction That there is only one God and he bears the crown Of thorny wreaths engulfed by wrath and despair Writhing like a heap of maggots ready for the kill I wonder whether once machine guns are silenced And there are no more innocent bodies to splatter If someone can find a rusty nail to seal his coffin Or there might be some wood left for a tiny cross But all will not be lost on the time sheet of doom Surely he can find another explosion to lift him Of course cremation is strictly forbidden in Islam But who gives a damn about incineration and ashes There will be no grave perpendicular to Mecca And to add insult to injury of shrapnel and guts Elsewhere little reindeer will slide down a chimney Holocaust is better consigned to the margins of faith 12th December 2019