Poetry
A small ceramic manger scene,
With gleaming lights grabs my eye.
Every thing arranged so perfectly,
I couldn’t pass it by.
Baby Jesus in the middle,
With Mary by His side.
Joseph stood right close to them,
Looking down on them with pride.
The shepherds were there too,
Along with all their sheep.
Cows and horses laid in the barn,
Calm and quiet - peacefully.
Jesus smiled up from His crib,
Crudely made with straw and hay.
He looked up at everyone,
King of Kings, born that day.
What a pretty manger scene…
But was there more to it than that?
I bent down a little closer,
To study what I saw.
He was made impeccably,
I couldn’t see a flaw.
Those tiny gentle feet of His,
Would one day walk the earth.
One day they’d walk the dusty road,
Proving their great worth.
They’d walk into the temple,
They’d be honored with perfume.
They’d tread atop the water,
Carry Him, His whole life through.
They’d walk Him up that dreaded hill,
To the cross on high.
They’d be nailed to that cross,
Spit upon with dirt and lies.
The tiny feet in the manger scene…
There was so much more to it than that.
I looked down at His smooth head,
Too pretty to even touch.
One day it would be big and strong,
His mind filled with very much.
One day He’d show His wisdom,
Loving with all His might.
He’d share the wondrous story,
Of peace, salvation and light.
His head would rest upon the wood,
Of that cross, cruel with pain.
A crown of thorns thrust in His flesh,
Instead of you, He’d take the blame.
That small head in the manger scene…
There was so much more to it than that.
I reached out to touch the hands,
That shimmered in the light.
One day they’d make a lame man walk,
One day they’d give a blind man sight,
They’d make abundant food for all,
They’d heal a wounded heart.
They’d hold a child close to Him,
Death and life - they would part.
One day those hands would suffer too,
Nails driven through His skin.
Hung from that cross so brutally,
To take my place - to cover my sin.
Those little hands in the manger scene…
There was so much more to it than that.
I see a babe wrapped in cloths,
A perfect scene to bring a smile.
But when I see why He was born,
To give His love, to save my life…
I find my eyes filled with tears,
Remembering faults I’ve built.
Because of me, He was killed.
Because of love, He took my guilt.
This small babe before me now,
Was only the beginning.
The most precious gift given to us,
Lived…died…and rose again.
It all began at the manger scene…
But there’s so much more to it than that.
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Thanks for sharing this Beautiful piece!
In Christ Jesus,Dee
"Numbers 6:24,25,26"