A Christmas Poem
December 7, 2018
The Christmas Echo
(a poem by Monica P. Moyo; available for purchase as a Christmas card)
It was something about a child this time. Many heard it, but few understood it. The mad men–or prophets as they called themselves–often said unintelligible things, many of them rooted in their fantasies and longings for a better world. But this one echoed: a child would be born; a child would be born …
Time passed and the echo faded. Life returned to its mundane imperfect glory–rising and sleeping, buying and selling, wars and rumors of wars. But hidden in the shadows and silences of the human heart, many longed and secretly hoped to find substance in the echoes of mad men. If only a child is born …
Then one day, in the fullness of time, an unusual star appeared in the sky. Dreamers said it was a sign and swore they had heard the echo again. Many shrugged shoulders of indifference, while others dismissed their tale as utterances of mad men. But somewhere in a manger, angels stood at attention and wise men bowed as they beheld the child who would change the world.