Monday, November 27, 2006

Through the Eyes of the Babe

Light, sounds
Entrance into a world so cold
Love felt
Strange surroundings
Smell of Hay
Wrapped in warm swaddling
Faces, many Faces
Grand, kingly gifts
A star, shining brightly o’er top
Worship
Foretold for many generations
Young virgin mother
Angels heard on high
Born to die, yet bring life
Purposed for salvation

© TRM 2006

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