a groaning, weary, shell-shocked earth
was no place for the Son of God––
too true, too pure, too beautiful––
and yet,
still Love came down.

a pin-prick of the Light of Lights
was all it took to rip
the aching world wide open,
tearing darkness, thread by thread
until the Morning came.

the Only Son,
the Only Righteous One,
a red and wrinkled infant?

long-expected
unexpected
unimposing
unassuming

––not the scripted, forceful powerhouse,
the military general,
the iron-wielding mastermind––

but still the Sovereign Lord,
and yet the Shepherd King.

gentle, in a stable,
underdressed
and underwhelming,

Love was not quite
what we thought it was,
but everything we needed:
the Almighty come to touch us
with His glory.