Contrary to tradition much commented upon

In carols and plays now two millennium long,

One September eve Jesus was born, a holy child,

When shepherds eager to come in from the wild

Let their flocks to Providence one starry night. 

Not at Solstice time when light takes its flight,

And Romans turned to merry-making holidays–

Not until late December was Nativity delayed.

But Jehovah chose a more fitting time for a birth–

At harvest, so scholars claim, God came to earth.

A Heaven-sent babe, but traditionally swaddled,

Made much of by his Momma and surely coddled.

Whether Joe and Mary had but few miles to roam

Or traveled to far off Jerusalem as decreed by Rome,

They perhaps got a jump on the Tabernacle Feast,

A foolhardy move for a full-term mom to say the least!

At any rate, eight days after His birth they observed

At the Temple in great style and much customary verve,

Complete with two doves, a Jewish male infant’s Bris

(An event that for old folk, such as Anna, really fits).

That said, Mother Nature stood very much in awe of Him,

Unfurling her bountiful harvest with much gaudy trim.

Thus, even with these minor revisions in the Gospel Story,

Christians every December 25th still celebrates Christ’s glory.

Composed October 12, 2009

Image via Wikipedia