by mindfuldisciple

“Christmas Mourning” by Vassar Miller:

On Christmas Day I weep
Good Friday to rejoice.
I watch the Child asleep.
Does He half dream the choice
The Man must make and keep?

At Christmastime I sigh
For my Good Friday hope.
Outflung the Child’s arms lie
To span their brief scope:
The Death the Man must die.

Come Christmastide I groan
To hear Good Friday’s pealing.
The Man, wracked to the bone,
Has made His hurt my healing,
Has made my ache His own.

Slay me, pierced to the core,
With Christmas penitence
So I, new-born, may soar
To that Child’s innocence,
May wound the Man no more.