Poem for Christmas


When the source of
chose to dwell within
one fragile body
of a nobody,
greater than the universe,
yet barely traversing
more than a
double span;
God became a man.
now impotent,
to all life’s troubles;
no cheating here
nor chance of unfair
advantage, but just
life at its harshest.
And all for love
to show me that
he intimately knows
the panoply of woes
that can afflict me,
for he has lived
my pain and fear,
has struggled through
each year, each hour
each second’s worth of strife,
so that for me
he could give up his life
to mend the chasm
riven in my heart,
to wash me clean
and gift me a new start.

Copyright 2012 Edmund Preston

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