my heart
the first day of winter,and my heart is cold.
what of the Christ Child
and the Story of old?
what of the manger
where the Holy Babe lay,
and what of the love
He bled on that Day?
yes, what of the splinters
from His makeshift bed,
and what of the thorns
shoved down into His head?
what of His smile,
His favor resting upon me?
His eyes filled with Love--
His holiness, all He can see
is the Sacrifice He became;
from the body of an infant
to a Resurrected King.
Yes, even now i choose Him--
my heart and my all i bring.
all for now @
2:12 PM
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