Born in the City of David

Coming from all corners of the global journey
The queue edges forward in a quest for light
In a darkness quelled only by energy-savers
Dangling baubles and chandeliers under scaffolding
That clads a building under the crane's renovation,
With a ring-a-ring of roses towards the altar
Adorned by the holy family that is not yet one
In the waiting game of an over-crowded town
Making the most of expectant visitors
Whose existence needs to be registered 
In a land occupied by the unwanted,
Waiting for someone who'll make life better
Yet rejecting the one bathed in frankincense 
Because he wasn't quite who we thought he was.


November 2016

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