Meditation on a Manger-Mustard Seed

For the People of Bethlehem on Christmas


Sow a manger-mustard seed,
Reap a megaton of feed.
Leaven in a shepherd field,
Makes a universal yield.
See the little Refugee
Play where once he split the sea.
With a square and plane to ply
Make us mansions in the sky.
Loaves and fishes in his hand,
Crumbs as countless as the sand.
Threats from Herod dim and dire,
“Tell that fox his tail’s on fire.”
Who’s this weak and bleating lamb?
“Before Abraham I am.”
Bleeding in Gethsemane
On the eye of victory.
Shrieks the nail between the bone,
Wrath, my wrath, my wrath on loan.
Limp like meat upon a rack,
Raw with slivers in his back.
Black and cavernous the grave
’Til the Father comes to save.
Quiet thunder ripples out
Through the centuries of doubt.
Silence in the heavens now.
Soon the universe will bow.
Leaven in a shepherd field
Look! A universal yield.
Sow a manger-mustard seed,
Reap a megaton indeed.
Light the fuse on Christmas night,
Soon a flash of dynamite.