The Manger – 21st Poem of Christmas

Mother and Child

 

There He lay in a trough where animals took food.
His place of rest could hardly be described as the best,
Emptied for use as a crib for this inexplicable little babe.
Merciful and mighty? You would never know it.
And why should you? He is born in a stable
Not in the gilded halls of a queen with midwives in attendance.
God came to earth as human as anyone, a child
Endearing to those who claimed him as their own, and yet
Radiating power, bringing kings and shepherds to their knees.

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