After Wrappings Gathered Up

I languish in aftermath

Of tinsel mixed with pine

Aromas of the kitchen

And friends so surely mine.

It’s hard to see it pass

The miracle again

The telling of the story

Bringing peace, goodwill

To men.

A Baby left the highest

But not for noble birth.

The room was scarce provided

For the King of

All the Earth.

His smile would

Melt the hardest

His path would heal the pain.

His exit, friends, an Empty Tomb.

Our Hope, He comes again.