Like star trails that stream from the heavens ablaze
The angels to earth came illumined with praise,
Announcing the cure for our human malaise
The first night that Christ on earth dwelled.

They sang that the child would show us the way
Proclaiming the Father is good, but we say:
“Can fables like this cast our troubles away?”
And thereby the chorus is quelled.

‘Twas grandiose news but it came and it went
For children still suffer and blood is still spent.
If such was reality, would the advent
Of bounties so long be withheld?

It’s said that He paid what we never could earn
But still there’s an ache between vest and return.
Where cancer abides, it is hard to unlearn
The myths which His suff’ring repelled.

The myth that we must to end sorrow appease
A Father who couldn’t care less for our needs.
Yet Christmas is offered despite our disease—
A peace that cannot be dispelled.

A God who is with us, not one we’ve cajoled—
Oh this is the Yuletide news that is told!
What once from afar was a name to behold
By grace is a name to be held.

An unexposed hope now to fullness is swelled
If Christ we invite where our treasure once dwelled.
Our pain is not past but the question’s expelled
For conquering joy can at last be upheld.

© Tanner Rinke 2017