Christmas Tree

Tonight, we decorated our Christmas tree as a family. Carols played from another room as we talked, laughed, and enjoyed adorning branches. But Christmas trees remind me of another tree, and the deeper meaning of Christmas: “He Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that, having died to sins, we might live for righteousness” (1 Peter 2:24). Last year, I tried to capture this juxtaposition in a poem called “Christmas Tree,” which appeared in my second book Event Horizon.

Christmas Tree

This year’s tree
stands at the picture window.

Overcast skies
give their pallor
to the window-facing 
side of the tree.

Shadows from the unlit room
reach and drape across
the tree’s back
as I think about
a baby born to die,
and the tree waits
to be hung 
with garland and lights.

Published by mrteague

Teague McKamey lives in Washington state with his wife and two children. Teague’s poetry has appeared in several journals and in self-published books. He blogs at thevoiceofone.org and awanderingminstrel.com. In all areas of life, Teague desires that Christ may be magnified in his body (Php. 1:20).

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