A Christmas Eve Reflection
Fast runs the race as the last evening falls,
Flash more than thought betrays the ritual's force,
Hurried affection grasped from glittering halls,
Fails to conceal the vulgar and the coarse.
Though faltering and short, better the prayer,
Like lips on stone, love makes rough places smooth,
Better the gesture of unhurried care,
The gloss of patience time will not remove.
Yet Jesus came to free those caught in briars,
Only he knowing how the seed fell there,
Better to leave him with their brash desires,
Better for us to fortify our prayer.