An unmarried mother gave
birth in a stable,
some saw a fulfilment of all
they had heard,
to others this story, the
birth of the Godhead,
was more than amazing, was
frankly absurd.
Some delved into scripture
and said that a virgin,
was destined to carry a child
who would grow
to be a Messiah, salvation
for nations,
and others would question how
history could know.
So back to the story, now
Bethlehem beckons,
a carpenter-pawn come to sign
for the state,
the bureaucrats needing a
list for taxation
and everyone hurries before
it’s too late.
A legend would grow up of
shepherds and magi,
no snow at this Christmas beneath
a night’s sky.
A man who would die as a
crucified preacher
was born with sparse shelter
as people passed by.
And so came the story of
birth in a stable,
of Bethlehem’s journey, a
virgin and child.
And lost is the essence, the
mystery and wonder,
of God born among us abused
and reviled.
Much later a soldier saw God
in this prophet
a man who would love to his very last breath
the dying, the hopeless,
those outside religion,
and all those beside who had
shared in his death.
Andrew Pratt 22/11/2017
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