Soft, Christmas

This Christmas night hangs heavy with our fate
And slows the heart to hibernate and wait.
Back to the womb we’ve gone to try again,
But come out self-aborted and the same.
We kill our innocence and throw the dice
To see how truth will turn out, at what price.
We try to stop, yet fear the New Year’ll come,
To carry on the evil momentum.
Hush! Hear again the cosmos cleaving cry,
first lungful, God with us, cattle nearby.
Those little hands which clutch the air call, “Friend”
To each of us, our failure nails amend.
With Mary’s software God is melting stones
And giving gentle life to dead men’s bones.

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