Monday, December 19, 2011

Christmas Poem

Next Sunday is Christmas. A day to celebrate life (even though He was actually born in the spring) and death and new chances. Not the New Years Resolution type chances, but the gifts He gives that we can get from no other source.

The earth sleeps here beneath the snow
and waits with bated breath
for one who said that He would come
and break the chains of death.

The earth sleeps now beneath the snow
much like our Heavenly King
Before He rose from death's long night
As Winter turned to Spring.

The earth sleeps still beneath the snow,
the while the Angels sing
All wrapped in white, in silent night,
and waiting for its King

Lauren (written 2010)

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