Christmas poem
Somewhere, from the brightness, behind the winds,
He came to us
in the form of a fragile child.
He came into his own world, which he had created together with his Father.
But we didn’t recognize!
We turned our backs on him (unlike the plants that turned to the sun and the animals that cried out to him for food)
Bitterness had distorted our faces.
-There is too much suffering here! we shouted.
-Enough already, it is madness to say that God is love!
Again this Christmas He comes, in the guise of a little child,
to show
what is Father like.
Again He bows to us,
this Christmas.
