20 years ago, I began a tradition of writing a poem to Jesus for Christmas. It seemed the least I could do for Him, who gave His life for me.
Here is poem #4, which I wrote in December, 2005!
¹Christmas runs at break-neck pace,
While drama spins behind each face,
But they don’t know, it’s not a race.
And Jesus waits for them.
²The young launch out, ambitions bold,
While ‘seasoned salts’ let dreams run cold;
A few find life, the rest – fool’s gold.
And Jesus watches them.
³He walked alone down empty streets,
A broken man with aching feet,
He’d lost the life he strove to keep.
Yet Jesus died for him.
⁴She crowned her tree with crystal star,
Her home, impeccable by far,
But when guests left, her soul’s ajar.
And Jesus wept for her.
⁵They raised their cups and toasted gains,
The market had been good to them,
To get so rich yet grow so vain.
And Jesus stared at them.
⁶The little boy, ice cream his own,
A hungry man sat all alone,
He begged for bread but got a cone.
And Jesus smiled at them.
⁷The others left, she stayed behind,
Though it was right, she’d lost her ride;
The night grew dark, the traffic died,
When Jesus came for her.
⁸He bent his knee and popped the Q,
Her face, a rose be-streaked with dew;
A kiss that promises, “I do.”
And Jesus gazed at them.
⁹The toddler burped and sneezed, and well,
The third thing is not right to tell;
But Daddy choked, “O, what a smell!”
And Jesus laughed with them.
¹⁰Old lady napped, her guests were few,
Disease and years had ripped right through,
She dreamed of Home, where old’s made new.
And Jesus held her hand.
¹¹Her water broke the silent night,
Distended months took final flight,
A mother held her newborn tight.
And Jesus cradled them.
¹²And one day – Oh! so long ago,
A Father wept for those below,
His Son then volunteered to go.
A baby born for us.
¹³So Christmas came, wrapped in disguise,
But visited by three kings wise,¹
A baby born to die and rise.
And Jesus was His name.
Come Soon, Lord Jesus.
Next, Christmas Poem 5: A More Profound Joy