Jesus, Son of God, Son of Mary

Come, see the infant, born in a stable,

Child of promise, child of peace;

Here lies Messiah, King of the ages,

In his mother's arms asleep.

Word eternal, Lord of glory,

Leapt from heaven's royal throne.

To the silent, waiting world

He came, in darkness, to his own.

Here lies the baby, straw his pillow,

Cobwebs draped around his bed;

Frail and helpless, needing his mother

Still to help him lift his head.

He who left bright heaven's splendour,

Clouds his chariot, stars his crown,

Comes to us, his broken people,

Laying all his glory down.

Welcome Jesus, Lord and Saviour,

Son of heaven and child of earth,

Come to bring the hope of freedom

From a dark eternal death.

Love in person, Truth for ever,

Gift of God to endless days,

All we are we bring to offer

In our sacrifice of praise.    

B. I. Hartless

Annunciation

Feather by Beren Hartless

When something wonderful
And terrible,
Happens unexpectedly,
When soft wings
And a floating feather
Coalesce into a presence,
Do I tremble?
Or do I embrace
The gift?

A momentary surge of fear,

Adrenalin-fuelled,
Settles into silence,
And the cosmos
Holds its breath,
Waiting for assent.

B. I. Hartless  

Final

The last wound was the deepest.

Kinder Scout by Beren Hartless

The wound of loss

Cries like the gale over the moors -

Fierce-whipping eroded rocks,

Stripping the thorned gorse of its last bloom,

Loosing desolation,
Devastating emptiness.

Silent-bound, the broken hillside mourns.

Only the kestrel keens.

B. I. Hartless

SANCTIFICATION 2

There is potential here.


Wind-blown barley by Beren Hartless

The merest nudge,
The slightest touch, is urging on.
To grow is to be open, to respond.

Sometimes, drastic deaths
Are needed to bring growth.
At others, feather-light, insistent possibilities
Come floating past
Like wisps of mist.

Listen! - The wind blows where and how it wills.

Maybe the groaning gusts
Uprooting all before,
Sweeping away accumulations
Littered round the garden of a life,
Are now transformed to gentle zephyr strokes,
Light, stimulating breaths,
That set up strengthening reactions
In the sappy new shoots
Springing in the soul.

The Wind of God

All Spirit, blows in change,
Fully humanising fledgling beings
Fixed in fractured, time-distorted stasis.

Life, abundantly enjoyed

Within the Wind,
Flowing with the onward dance of God
Reflects the wholeness of the perfect One.

B.I. Hartless