Infant Hope
My Christmas Morning Peace

The world was still as dark that night.
The Roman grip was just as tight.
Not much had changed for poor and week.
Their lot in life was just as bleak.
 They sought a savior strong and wise,
To heal their hurts and hear their cries.
Instead they heard a tiny peep,
From little infant fast asleep.
How could the hope of all the land,
Be held within such tiny hands.
For thirty years would come and go,
Still waiting for that gift to grow.
Yet, changes great have come on earth,
Because of that small infant birth.

Today we want what’s fast and strong.
To ease our pain and right our wrongs.
Yet answers to our prayers are born,
Just as they were on Christmas morn.
A seed of hope so frail and small,
That does not seem like much at all.
Yet such a tiny seed of hope,
Will someday be a mighty oak.
So do not cry and do not moan,
When miracles are not yet grown.
For God has given us His grace,
As smiling from an infant face.
And if we wait, then time will tell,
Of God with us, Emanuel.

By Marie Morrow
Christmas Day, 2015

 


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