Wednesday, December 10, 2014


The glitter on the creche
Seduces me from how inglorious His comings and goings were.
His feet filthy from offal paths until someone thought to wash them,
His hands unwashed, as the Pharisees noted.
No beauty to behold except in a peek on a peak.
His sandal soles dragging up dirt and fronds, muleback,
A towel around His waist in a shanghaied room,
A lone figure squatting over a breakfast fire.
Loaned food, found tax, borrowed burial.

Inglorious, yes, His going:
The Savior on a stake;

Bookends His coming:

A God in a trough.

copyright Latayne C. Scott
Image courtesy of


Anonymous said...

My mouth is opening and shut like a goldfish at this. What words to say but "wow", and "yes", and "so true, so true".
Thank you.

Latayne C Scott said...

My pleasure, and you are welcome!