When Christmas Comes Poem by Gert Strydom

When Christmas comes, while the flowers
here are blooming during summer,
I am astounded by the things
in the windows of the shops

and I am at times wondering
if everybody realizes what gift
You gave to the wide world,
with your coming as a insignificant human being

and I see people wishing each other well,
wishing a prosperous new year
and wonder if anybody still believes
in the salvation that You do bring,

if your crucifixion and the affliction of it
really pervades to humanity?