Immanuel

A poem for Christmas Night

I

“O come, o come Immanuel” we sing
as winter’s shroud envelops land and sky
squeezing days to ever shortening hours
injecting darkness into watchful eyes.

As night falls ever earlier we wait
for that first glimmer of the coming dawn
a distant hope, a flickering hope, but hope
it is and hope sustains and we go on.

Last week I watched a nuthatch on the drive
as carefully it broke the puddle’s skin
and, wary of the dangers all around,
it found refreshment, cleansing, hope within.

Even in the darkness and the frost
Hope is not lost.

II

“O come, o come Immanuel” they sang
The still, small voice of God so hard to hear
above the chaos of a noisy world
and so they cried out “God, our God, come near”

The promise of the prophets long ago
was of a saviour, of a prince, a king
and though the centuries had passed in silence
still “O come, immanuel” they’d sing.

And in that darkness, in that silent night
where many hoped, but few truly believed
God did come near.  Immanuel, God with us.
In fragile child this earth her God received.

Even in the silence and the doubt
Hope still shines out

III

So now we stand and wait in this dark night
adding our voices to that holy chorus
crying out for God, our God to come
as he once came to those who’ve gone before us.

We harken to the angels song, we lay
our gifts, our lives, before the lowly manger
And in this night, this holy night, we know
that God, our God, is no longer a stranger

In Bethlehem so many years ago
Earth’s fragile skin was pierced as Heaven came
And if we, on this night, will let him in
then God, our God, will be with us again

Even in our hearts and in our lives
Hope, the hope that God is with us, thrives