The Shape of Christmas
By Jim Burklo 12-3-18
(See my many other Advent/Christmas poems here. Use freely with attribution.)
My mind is a maze with the turns of the journey
The wise men wandered while aimed at the star
Their ears had the form of the wings of the angels
Attuned to the music they sang from afar
The shape of my spite looks a lot like King Herod’s
The innkeeper’s answer describes my disdain
My fear is the terror first felt by the shepherds
The birth-pangs of Mary give voice to my pain
My soul is a hole in the shape of a manger
A silence that begs for a baby’s soft cry
A darkness that yearns for a child’s wide-eyed wonder
On seeing that blaze in the evening sky….
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Sr Associate Dean of Religious Life, University of Southern California