He stood, stark against the bomb blasted, bleak land,
His heart bearing pain, sorrow and blight of a child’s light,
Abused, beaten, trafficked, abandoned,
Helpless as the baby he became.
Tears running down his beard, from his beleaguered soul,
seeing broken bone weary, loss battered women
Oppressed, violated, imprisoned
Faceless as the babe he became.
He gasps at the slaves striped and bowed near to death,
at the evil promoting their ownership, racism and violence,
lashed, starved, brutalised
homeless as the babe he became.
Wringing his hands he cringes at the cold killing if creation;
as beautiful trees become barren stumps and creatures
Frantic, scuttling, suffering
voiceless as the babe he became.
Weeping he walked the way of pain to offer a narrow path,
where children safely play, women and men equal and free,
nature loved and nurtured raise their voices
in joy for the babe of Bethlehem who lights our choices
Happy Christmas and more good light and better choices in 2023