Thursday, December 24, 2009


In santa suits
Forgetting our roots

Like deer we prance
In  tinsel trance

All a senseless rushing
All such sentimental gushing

Wait!  Turn back, be still.
Do you hear?..the feint lyric of a woman's will.

Be-it done-unto-me, her trembled cry.
All given for love, a willingness to die.

A girl -child chimed, use me?
How so? She could not see,

Yet, yes, her  brave song consenting
To Whom she'd been so faithfully attending.

Into the soil of a soul so deep
He was invited to thrust His  seed,

His divinity sod.
So entered God.

A helpless child
Glowing in vernix,  holy and mild.

From the simple surrender, one woman willed
All hearts could be opened, and truly filled.

Withholding will:
          Be less careful.

Heart  of mine:
         Be more prayerful.

Trust in Jesus:
         Be made fertile!