Straw

I don't know what to write anymore.

The year draws dully to its close,

and I am blank and bled and sore,

sans joy, sans hopes.



Where is the breaking dawn on high?

Where is the burst of heavenly light?

Here, I am only empty sighs,

not glad, not bright.



I am the empty manger, Lord;

everything eaten, all devoured,

shamed that I must be filled once more,

each day, each hour.



All mankind withers as the grass

(well have you known since Christmas first)

fodder for all the beasts that pass

since Adam's curse.



So do I wither, dry as hay;

stone is my heart, fit but for straw.

How shall I see your dawning day

or know my God?



So you must fill me, Christ to come,

or leave me empty, barren stone,

filled with the shadows or the sun

by you alone.

Nativity scene By Peter van der Sluijs – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=54200486