A time long past

With the cold chill of night giving urgency

To the need for shelter.

Smell the thick closeness of animals, grains and straw

In this place built specifically for their birth and now His.

It was not clean, not still, not comfortable,

But there it was.

No bed, no linens,

And none would sacrifice for Him.

Imagine the pains that brought Him into this world.

Who could arrive this way knowing all that was to come?

Just a child born to a carpenter and his young wife,

While life went on around them.

This entry was posted in Poetry by bgm1969. Bookmark the permalink.

About bgm1969

This blog is updated by a guy who’s overweight, silly, Liberal, spiritual rather than religious, infatuated with beauty and grace, musically blessed, and always changing.

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