His Yoke is Easy

His Yoke is Easy
by Gideon Burton

He'll come: sky-shredding Jesus robed in red
and ready to descend to bring an end,
when eyes look up, when every knee will bend
and all will be fulfilled that prophets said.
He's come: the infinite to finite wed,
obscured in flesh, who made the cosmos bend;
as weak as us, as though He were a friend;
almighty, yet behold the master's dread:
Oh, come to me whose heavy burdens weigh;
my yoke upon you -- take it -- feel how light,
how easily I lead you unto rest.
Oh, come, discover ease within my way;
buy milk and honey without cost or price;
my child, sit down and be my honored guest.

Photo: flickr - Scott Law

Christmas, Present

Christmas, Present
by Gideon Burton

Arrayed in papered glory round the tree
And spilling well across the living room,
The presents promise no small share of glee
For children, banishing all pouty gloom.
And yet, I would forego it all, the craze
Of shopping, wrapping, yuletide in a box,
Because, I fear, it has become a haze,
A hindrance keeping us with ribboned locks
From knowing little Jesus meek and mild,
From holding Christ the Savior in our hearts.
The children seek not Bethlehem to find
But batteries to make their Go Kart start.
     Already we are distanced from that place;
     No need to cloud the radiance of His face.

Photo: flickr - Striking Photography by Bo Insogna

Bleak Midwinter

Bleak Midwinter
by Gideon Burton
after the traditional carol

Midwinter, bleak with moaning, frosty winds;
Across the iron earth the mounting snow;
the water, stony ice a layer thin;
beneath the snow, the dark compacting snow.
A stable place remained and was enough
when heaven couldn't keep him in its home.
A bed of straw, a mother's milk and love;
it was enough, though cherubim had flown
and seraphim attended in the air;
no worship but a weary mother's kiss.
He is enough, no offerings compare.
His is enough, and all has come to this:
     Within my bleak midwinter shines a son,
     I kneel in warmth and winter is undone.

Photo: flickr - manfred-hartmann

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As a bonus, enjoy this audio version of the traditional carol, sung by my wife, Karen, and her friend, Juliana.


In the Bleak Midwinter
traditional

In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him, nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away when He comes to reign.
In the bleak midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.

Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, in her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the beloved with a kiss.

What can I give Him, poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd, I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man, I would do my part;
Yet what I can I give Him: give my heart.