Wandering through the crowds of a
department store
Strangers indifferently eye one
another, impatiently
turning away, jostling together in
an uneasy throng
Amid the lights and gaieties, a
contrivance of choirs
And piped music plays the customary
overtures
Stepping past an open doorway, a
blast of heat reminds us
That the snowy winter-wonderland is
air-conditioned,
Not the reality of Australian
December
Something more sweaty and profound
lies waiting
And this is comforting
For this is the Christmas gift of
Mary,
She who carried her baby among the
dusty crowds,
Knowing fear and rejection,
That they who in poverty pass beyond
the tinsel
Seeking the blessings of the Christ
child
In an unknowing world
Will be heirs of the Magi.
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