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By Peter O
Other Poems by Peter O


"He emptied Himself and took upon Himself the form
of a servant and was made in the likeness of men." Phil. 2:7

Jesus, the Word,
The Light of the world,
The Lamp for our journey,
Left the dark womb of His mother,
A teen-age country girl, and
Came to us.


Jesus, the Word,
The King of kings,
The Lord without peer,
Lay joyfully on hay
In a food trough for oxen.


Jesus, the Word,
The Food for our hunger,
The Drink for our thirst,
Suckled warm
On the milk mild breast of His mother,
At peace like any other infant.


Jesus, the Word,
One with the Trinity in Creation,
The Alpha and Omega of the Universe,
Reaches for His earth-father's hands,
A village cutter of wood,
A maker of plows, and
Feels safe.


Jesus, the Word,
The Love Shepherd,
The Gate for the fold,
Now circled by shepherds,
Poor and low caste,
Brothers to His task.


Jesus, the Word,
The Book of all wisdom,
The Source of all knowledge,
Lay swaddled, warmed by donkey's breath,
As world-wisdom knelt before Him.


Jesus, the Word,
Became flesh and
Settled His tent among our's,




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Submitted: Friday, December 5, 2014

Last Updated: Sunday, December 7, 2014

About the Poet
I am 79 years of age. For the past nine years I have been retired, after forty years, from the field of alcoholism and drug abuse in New York City. I am married and we have two grown sons and two grand-sons. My life changed through a grace-experience in 1967. Writing Christian prayers is a particular interest of mine. This came about by a growing awareness of the spiritual in recovery from addictions. I choose, intellectually and emotionally, to believe the Triune God of the Sared Scriptures as my Healer.

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