'THE GIFT' - A CHRISTMAS POEM

By Sean O'Leary

In the hush of this Christmastide,

I sit with the memory of a stable’s breath,

a manger cradling the Infinite made small.

And in the straw, a heartbeat stirs ...

God’s yes to flesh, to cold, to us.

Mary's yes to wonder, Josephs to protect 

Shepherds to delight and the wise to ponder.

This is a time to be slow, reverent even,

to let the starlight pierce the soul’s deep night,

as John the Baptist’s voice once called

across the wilderness of our longing.

The bells of Bethlehem ring soft,

with a tender chime that wakes the heart

to Love’s quiet eternal flame.

I remember the Holy Land, its biblical signs,

where once I travelled, seeking faith,

and discovered in every troubled path

the footsteps of our Saviour.

I remember Rome, its ancient stones,

where once I wandered, seeking hope,

and found in every mighty arch

the echo of a child’s cry.

I remember my local church, its homely welcome, 

where I still journey, seeking community,

and in every act of communion 

the presence of a servant Heart.

So too, this Christmas, in every humble place,

the King arrives, not with gold or sword,

but wrapped in swaddling, a mother’s song.

Candles flicker, frail yet bold,

“I am the Light,” He whispers still,

and in their glow, I see the faces

of the poor, the lost, the ones I love.

O sacred mystery, O hidden joy,

the Gloria rises from the hills,

a chorus of angels, our heartfelt awe,

mingling with the bells of Paradise.

Feel the veil part, Heaven leaning close,

and in the gentleness of a child’s breath,

we are born anew, called to give

as He has given, selfless, free.

So choose this simple belonging,

where love is the only treasure laid.

For Christmas is not ours to own,

but a gift to hold, to pass along

a light that burns beyond the stars,

a beauty born to make us whole.