On Tue, 24 Dec 1996, Toby A Rider wrote:
> In her new book written with Luci Shaw, Winter Song,
> Madeleine L'Engle reflects on the reality of the
> Christ child then and now:
> This is no time for a child to be born,
> With the Earth betrayed by war and hate
> And a comet slashing the sky to warn
> That time runs out and the sun burns late.
> That was no time for a child to be born
> In a land in the crushing grip of Rome
> Honor and truth were trampled by scorn --
> Yet here did the Saviour make his home.
> When is the time of love to be born?
> The inn is full on planet earth,
> Any by a comet the sky is torn --
> Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
Thank you for this poem. I'll pass it along to those friends who say that
this world is too horrible to bring a child into it. I never have any
response that seems adequate to that statement, since the world does seem
to be terrifying. We forget that it has always been terrifying, but that
fear is based on an epiphenomenal illusion, not on the foundation of
existence--which is love that transgresses all fear and boundaries.