Incarnation

Incarnation

November 2011

You can read the figures

You can read the news

People aren’t numbers

It’s your attitude (that’s flat)

How can we know if we don’t go?

How can we know if we don’t stay?

Incarnation grips me

and takes me to the city

Incarnation grips me

and leads me far away

I want to breathe the air

I want to eat the fare

I want to walk the dirt

with feet like yours.

I want to learn your words

I want to know your name

What if I feel the pain

of feet like yours?

But incarnation grips me

when I see Him:

Swaddled up in skin,

Rode a skeleton…

With a heart of meat,

He was made of dust –

like the rest of us.