The Table of God
A Grace for the Season
As kings to the cradle,
As shepherds to the stable,
To marvel at the miracle,
We come to this table.
We do not carry trunks
Of trinkets and treasures,
There is no bling
To the gifts we bring
The only gold we hold
Is grief’s tired gloss
Forged in the fires of loss
The incense of our imperfections
Burned as dross.
Travel-tired
Stor…
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