Jesus Poems

Upon the mountain's snowy crown, In winter's hush, I sought renown. To birds above, my words did plead, A longing heart, a quiet need. "Little birds," I softly cried, Amidst the cold, my arms spread wide. A gift I brought, no special plan, To share with you, feathered clan. Yet, in the air, my plea did fade, The birds, aloof, in flight they stayed. Undeterred, a truth unfurled, A tale transcending this wintry world. "My body vast," I mused, sincere, "Too grand, too large, breeds only fear. If small I became, like birds that roam, A chance to share my heart, my home." In solitude, a truth took flight, Christmas whispered through the night. A grand divine in a child so small, Love's true meaning, a sacred call. In humble form, a choice divine, To bridge the gap, a love benign. The little child, a gift to all, Christmas echoes, love's sweet thrall.

Me became bird? 🐦 On that serene winter day atop the snow-kissed mountain, my heart swelled with an earnest desire to connect, not just with nature, but with something greater than myself. The birds, delicate creatures in their own right, seemed elusive to my attempts at communion. Undeterred, I yearned to convey a message, a plea to the feathered friends that circled above. "Little birds," I whispered to the silent expanse, "I bring not demands but a simple offering. In this season of scarcity, let me share my warmth and sustenance with you. I wish only to sit among you, to hear your songs and witness your playful dances. Let us be friends." Yet, my appeal echoed in solitude. The birds remained distant, their understanding eluding my words. Faced with this disconnect, a realization stirred within me—an epiphany that resonated deep in the chambers of my soul. Gazing at my own form, I spoke to myself with an intimacy that transcended the mountain's s