(Post) Christmas poem
I lost my mind, but a new one found me.
It had a star in the East,
a baby in a crib,
a promise of rest.
The old one slaved in a frenzy,
driven by a fierce standard
never met—
the house of demons.
Quiet and protected,
the babe grew,
known in favor,
bountiful in blessing,
not enough, though, for our demands,
until he took us through
the gate of his death,
the coffin of his burial,
and into the beyond—
from whence cometh the glorious mind.
So now when the house shakes,
and the panic strikes,
my mind rests in the new manger.
There, a mind born from above
is life and peace.


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