Christmastime

A season for the memory of birth
Against the backdrop of a world of death.
A promised king of everlasting worth
In swaddling cloths, now taking his first breath.

A season for the sparkling of light
In contrast to the darkness of these days,
Reflections of the angel’s sign that night,
The hope of rest beyond all holidays.

A season for the fellowship of friends,
For reconciling wrongs and all division,
All rooted in the love that never ends
And growing up into the heav’nly vision.

A season for the change of old to new.
A season for the stories ringing true.


Photo by Wesley Tingey on Unsplash

Incarnation

Preeminent yet immanent, the Christ,
The holy word, the light, the lion-lamb,
Emptied himself to soon be sacrificed
In order to redeem and not to damn
The sin-stained souls of all who would believe
In heaven’s gift of peace and righteousness.
The angels sing! Rejoice, all you who grieve!
The Lord has come this day to save, to bless!
Behold the babe born to our soil and sod,
The timeless son translated into time,
The image of the invisible God,
The all transcendent Lord’s audible rhyme.
The infant in the manger you now see?
Upholder of the universe is he.