Prairie Messenger Header

Poetry

12/13/2017

Janice Weber photo

 

Christmas

It is a wintry night in the West.
The beacons of democracy
on the distant hills have dimmed.
We huddle around our broken compasses,
our supplies dwindling.
The trail to our homeland
has been lost;
the darkness deepens.

Above the cold palaces
of empty distractions roam
the soul of the world
and the soul of God,
while many other souls
wander with the madness
of untethered freedom.

Yet, deep in the bedrock
of given meaning,
layer by layer,
story by story,
year by year,
down deep is found
the most curious birth,
when fire touched
our world with
a child most
holy and most
troubling.

By Michael Dallaire