The Baby in the Manger

When I look in the manger,

what do I see?

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Poverty -- or treasure?

Helplessness -- or hope?

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A baby,

dependent on others,

unable to choose

where to be born,

a passenger, a refugee,

helpless to prevent

the slaughter of

innocent babes.

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The angels saw

much more,

and burst into paeans of praise.

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Lord, grant me ears to hear

the prophetic song,

eyes to see Your glory dawning,

a heart tender

with love

to embrace

You,

fragile in omipotence.