Yesterday I posted a light-hearted set of lyrics with regard to reindeer and Santa. Today I've decided to post something on the serious side. As the celebrated birth of our Savior draws near, we tend to reflect more on His life, and all that it means in our own.
Earlier this morning, as I continued working on a special gift for a relative, I came across a poem I had written several years ago. It was based on a dream I experienced one night. When I awoke, the images from that dream were fresh in my mind, and I tried to capture what had been impressed in the words of this poem.
It is my hope that this Christmas season, we'll hold the Savior close in our hearts, and share that eternal love with those around us.
The scene—chaotic, the atmosphere tense,
Everyone seemed filled with fear and suspense.
The moment was coming, preparations began,
For the Honored Guest, the Son of man.
Tables were laid out, row upon row,
Tempers were short if someone was slow.
"Hurry, hurry—there’s no time to waste,
"He could come any minute! We must make great haste!"
And so it continued, voices clamoring loud,
Tension was building throughout the crowd.
"It must be perfect!" was the theme of the day
No allowances were made for those in the way.
The sky grew dark, still no sign of The Guest,
Confusion was great—hadn’t they put forth their best?
Fingers were pointed, blame was heaped high,
‘Til no one could hear The Voice from the sky.
It came as a whisper—felt deep inside,
A sweet burning sensation, barred only by pride.
I looked all around—surely they’d heard,
The soft words that beckoned, but it was absurd!
The angry faces seemed quite unaware
Of the Honored Presence hovering there.
He softly called, His voice a whispered plea,
"Come, my children, wilt thou follow me?"
He repeated it thrice, yet none turned their head,
His voice drew away—contention thriving instead.
"Couldn’t you hear Him?" I shrieked as I ran,
"He was here! The Son of Man!"
"You drove Him away with your anger and pride!"
They just shook their heads and pushed me aside.
"Leave us alone, get out of the way!
"We have much to do to prepare for this day!"
Trembling I woke—it was only a dream,
Was the message real? That remains to be seen.
But as we prepare for His second appearance,
Let our hearts rule actions of perseverance.
For the message of love He longs to impart,
Can only touch those with an open heart.
Cheri J. Crane