God’s Birthday

A late October day
a morning thick with frost
Alone on a country road
dead leaves scattered and tossed
While walking in the bright early morn
beneath a blue and cloudless sky
past the dead and dry and uncut corn
I heard a baby cry
then a crow announced it
plain and forlorn
that God Himself had just been born
He had just been born
all shiny and new
somewhere in the woods
hidden from my view
and his naked body glistened
bathed in the morning dew
and the trees bent in deference
to the western winds that blew
Who’ll take care of him
when the chill wind blows
when the night gets dark
in the cold December snows
Who’ll protect him
from the known and unknown
He’s just a baby
in a world as hard as stone
He’s all being and He’s all powerful
and He’s all alone
Who’ll stand and watch guard for
the priests and prophets and the worst
of the saints and the martyrs
the blessed and the cursed
with their sin and their faith
and their bibles and prayers
and their unquenchable taste
for his blood and flesh and hair
Now every year when I find myself
under the late October sky
I walk down that country lane
and I listen for his cry
but I hear nothing
in the air cold and gray
Then the clouds pass by
and the sun lights the day
and the cold wind sighs
that it’s God’s birthday

One thought on “God’s Birthday

  1. “He’s all being and He’s all powerful, and He’s all alone.” I like that line the most. I like this Dave. It’s different. God being born in October versus December made me want to keep reading, and it’s a bit dark, which is also interesting. A good sense of place.

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