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Christmas

No Sugar Christmas

How difficult to face the holy intrusion,
to withstand the explosion of human pride
rocking in a cradle, the use of a maiden,
and the witness of animals.

The lights snake on the highway in the dark.
Each set of eyes explores his own two pools.
They drive for Christmas and the warmth
Of sentiment, to taste the feast of fools.

The slow infusion of God’s grace
Feeds open hearts in deadly need,
This earnest theatre, and the race
While mortals bleed.

Joy to the world. All industry
Proclaims it loud and bright.
The kids must learn, and we will sure
Indoctrinate them right.

He slipped beneath the sermons and the praise
To do and say his father’s will,
To crucify our death and with his life erase
Our isolation, and our hatred kill.

Strangled in calculations falsely guessed,
The print out of our lives clicks briskly on.
Before the little jigger comes to rest,
We know God’s sovereign purposes have won.

Alan Storkey

Alan Storkey

Economist, sociologist, writer and painter, living near Cambridge.

About Alan

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