Are you weary of the dreary draperies of skepticism and chauvinism?

Tired of your wings being clipped by clocks, and machines and producing things?

Tired of the tyrants and the arms race to control your soul,

 

the games with names, who’s who, and who’s to choose and who’s to lose?

Are you weary of the wooden pews of religion, 

and tired of the empty hedonism of humanism? 

 

Important people painting portraits of themselves.

Everyone else serfs, slaves, and knaves; outcast and second class.

Misfits and profligates—come to the Light!

 

His arms are wide and his face is bright. 

His hands lift lepers. He befriends beggars, 

and enjoys the simple and hears the humble. 

 

Come to his friendship; talk with the man. 

He cut stone with masons, combed seas with fisherman. 

He is approachable, willing and warm.

 

His joy is contagious, and strength outrageous. 

Think on his honesty, humility, gaiety, gallantry. 

 

The darkness could not domesticate him and devil purchase no part of him. 

He cannot be bought, confused, or used. 

His perception is perfect. His wisdom is wonderful. He is beautiful. 

 

He is the dazzling face that launches a thousand ships, 

that smiles to weak ones, and heals wounded sons. 

 

Let him still your will, and the anxious fretting. 

Let his pulse bring you peace. Stop trying so hard to achieve. 

Just receive the river of the Giver.

 

Gaze at him. His presence is humming with hope, 

vitality, sanctity, sanity, and sanctuary. 

Lose yourself in his splendor, 

the radiating colors of his character and wonder. 

 

He is the womb, and the anchor, 

the groom and the answer. 

Taste his patience where you expected punishment, 

and feel his zeal, you delight his sight. 

 

You are his passion, his affection, his pride and predilection. 

Many rivers cannot quench his love, darkness cannot overwhelm it.

 

He knows your secret and your sorrow. 

When your fields are faint, full, or fallow, 

he stands in tomorrow, your companion and your champion. 

 

O come let us adore him. 

Your King is good! Come get lost in his joy. Come to the beautiful and the pure. 

Aren’t you glad we’re not slaves to the dark anymore?

 

 

[Come to the Light was written with the intention of being an inspirational "spoken-word" presented within a Sunday morning Christmas message. Written and first presented by Brian Flewelling  December 18, 2022.]

 

 

 

Tags: jesus, king, light, good, inspirational, spoken word, poem, christmas, beauty, healing, holy, pure, beautiful