Unto Us Poem by John F. McCullagh

Borne forth from darkness into light

A child is born this Christmas night

A Mother’s pain is turned to joy

as she swaddles her little boy.



Their habitation is the place

where beasts of burden spend the night.

Their bodies' heat the only warmth

on this cold and bitter night.



This child shall be called many things:

A fraud, a Myth, the King of Kings.

But Mary’s heart, a secret minds

This is the son of the Divine.



This night is born to us a King:

A true judge of the soul’s gain and loss,

whose wisdom will enflame men’s minds.

whose arms embrace us from the cross.



j.m.