He is the King of glory
My Christmas poem for 2023
Merry Christmas, friend.
Whether you’re a new subscriber, just dropping by, or have been following Things I Wrote Down for awhile, I’m so grateful you’re here. Each year I take time to reflect on the meaning of Christmas through a poem. This year, I’m exploring the word glory.
I hope these words land with you. And that you and yours have a wonderful Christmas.
He is the King of Glory
And what is God’s glory The shouts of heaven's battle dressed host, ten thousand pitched in perfect harmony, heralding the gospel not from the sky but sandal to sandal among shepherds in the hill country A cloud of fire the voice in the wind tread marks of chariot wheels painting the sky with surprise Or is it the sound of bells jingling from the priest’s vestments, scraping stone, the tension on the rope pulling the stricken’s body from the holy of holies The trail of starlight those few men pointed to, centuries before it glimmered in the sky men who bravely stood when everyone bowed, who turned sorcerers to sages while exiled in Babylon What is God’s glory, is it an ancient memory a future hope to touch to fear Perhaps glory was the sound of the messenger's wings when the virgin said may it be, the gentle kiss of the carpenter’s lips against God’s rosy newborn cheek The quickening of the heart whispered prayers on bended knee Who are you, O King of glory
© 2023 Andrew Kooman.
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