Stories: A Thought
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ASSURANCE
Manger is too soft a word
For a cave or whatever housed animals.
Not inviting at all—straw or whatever
Bedding there was matted and animal-fouled.
Yet in such a place, some lesser gate, He came.
Abraham’s Seed, Firstborn, Immanuel, The Word,
Our Messiah. Our Surety.
My Surety.
And as I sit this December
In my decorated home I wonder and still look to
The moon, hoping to see it a reluctant prince to a new star.
I don’t need a sign, but it would be nice for assurance
As this camel tries to crawl through the needle’s eye
Hoping to find my way Home, perhaps through a lesser gate.
—Matthew Wynn |
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