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
Drivel by Dave 
“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.