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I believe Christ would choose to be born in Syria this year among the ruins of Syria PDF Print E-mail
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Written by ©Khairat Al-Saleh   
Wednesday, 25 December 2013 14:38

Khairat Al-Saleh left us 29th july 2014

 

 

 


           I believe Christ would choose to be born in Syria this year among the ruins of Syria

                                 The three kings in robes of crimson and purple

                                                                 Halt

                                    As the gleaming star they have been following

                                                   Suddenly changes course.

                                                          In bewilderment,

                                         They draw themselves to their full height

                                            And put on their shining crowns.

                                  At dawn, they gaze with tears flooding their eyes

                                  At the pitiful forlorn ruins the star brought them to,

                                            Their hearts brimming with sorrow,

                                             To see such devastation and woe.

                                        But the prophetic star shines brighter, softer.

                                       Suddenly, they hear iridescent unearthly music

                                           And know it to be the angels singing.

                                                     The ruins silently ineffably

                                                                  Shift

                                                            To reveal a manger,

                                                      Encircled by baby donkeys,

                                                         Their furs glistening,

                                                Gazing peacefully with velvet eyes

                                                     At the Child in the straw.

                                             In the distance, the heartless distance,

                                              Celebrating the birth of the Child

                                              In material pompous splendour,

                                                  People were oblivious to

                                               The star that shifted its course,

                                         To the sudden glow of gold, crimson and purple

                                          That for a moment stolen out of eternity

                                                Lit the Syrian pitiful ruins with

                                                            Childish mercy

                                                   And kingly compassion,

                                               While the baby donkeys gazed

                                               With jeweled eyes gazed.

©Khairat Al-Saleh
Last Updated on Friday, 05 June 2015 12:27
 

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