I believe Christ would choose this year to be born in Syria among the ruins of Syria

The three kings in robes of crimson and purple  


As the gleaming star they have been following

Suddenly changes course.

In bewilderment,

They draw themselves to their full height

And put on their shining crowns.

At dawn, they gaze with tears flooding their eyes

At the pitiful forlorn ruins the star brought them to,

Their hearts brimming with sorrow,

To see such devastation and woe.

But the prophetic star shines brighter, softer.

Suddenly, they hear iridescent unearthly music

And know it to be the angels singing.

 The ruins silently ineffably


 To reveal a manger,

Encircled by baby donkeys,

Their furs glistening,

Gazing peacefully with velvet eyes

At the Child in the straw.

In the distance, the heartless distance,

 Celebrating the birth of the Child

In material pompous splendour,

People were oblivious to

The star that shifted its course,

To the sudden glow of gold, crimson and purple

That for a moment stolen out of eternity

Lit the Syrian pitiful ruins with

Childish mercy

And kingly compassion,

While the baby donkeys gazed

 With jeweled eyes gazed.

©Alisar Iram 

Some lost donkeys literally froze to death as Syria was hit by the Alexa snow storm which also froze some young children to death in the refugee camps. 


About alisariram

I am an artist, a writer and a researcher. I know Arabic and English . I am interested in music and art of every description. I like to describe myself as the embodiment of a harmonious marriage between two cultures which I value and treasure.
This entry was posted in Alisar Iram's art, Alisar Iram's poems, Christmas, Destruction, Ruins, Syria and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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