To the Savior at Christmas and Always

“I will send the first,” the Father said—thy plan.
But first (Jehovah) with him shape and grace
(thou Word) this world; with him embody man

(thou Son of Man). To light all, cloud thy face;
yet show thyself to some (from Adam), few
(from Noah), one (but Abraham, a race).

Choose them, endure them, Israelite, Lehite, Jew;
send prophets, losses; lift Job, humble a king;
refine through exile and return, renew—

apostates, hypocrites. … The plan’s the thing:
here in the middle of time reveal thy love
a child born, not in winter’s ice, but spring.

“This is my son,” the Father said above;
below, the son rose drenched to his task, and John,
ringed with bright water, saw a descending dove.

Thy chosen walked in Jacob’s dream, led on
to see, transfigured in the mountain air,
Moses, Elias, Thee; a vision gone

By Gethsemane from the men sleeping there:
just Jacob’s ladder propped on that cross tree
to ease the living up to death, the bare

cadaver down to prison to set us free,
ransomed as Jacob’s angels watched thee rise
to break fast by the lake of Galilee.

“Behold my son.” After destruction’s noise,
the saving words of Bountiful. “My son,
hear him.” And thou wert there for Joseph’s eyes.

Now, Lord, persuade thy church what must be done
to speed thee back. These days of natural dearth
and human, mind thy brethren to make one

in awe but not in revel at thy birth,

remembering death and judgment, yet thy plan:

the resurrection of the whole round earth

to house with joy the eternal life of man.