A Christmas Poem

Before the angels sang their song on high,
Before the shepherds left their flocks in awe,
Before the star lit up the eastern sky,
God planned to dwell with us, to heal our flaw.

For centuries the prophets spoke His name,
“Immanuel”, God walking in our midst,
A promise burning like a holy flame,
That God Himself would come, and we’d be kissed

By grace that wrapped in swaddling clothes so tight,
A baby’s cry within a humble stall,
The King of Heaven born on Christmas night,
To live among us, God with one and all.

He didn’t come with armies, crown, or throne,
But helpless, small, dependent on our care,
To show that we would never be alone,
That God would meet us in our deepest prayer.

So gather close this Christmas, family dear,
And marvel at this truth we celebrate:
Immanuel means God is truly here,
No longer distant, holy, or far-off, but near.

He knows our joy, He knows our every tear,
He’s walked our roads and felt our human weight,
Because He came to earth and lingered here,
We’re never abandoned—God with us is great.