A Christian Poem on Premature Displays

The shops are decked in tinsel haste,
with plastic stars and candy paste.
The carols blare in late September,
as if the world forgot December.

A sale on joy, a discount grace,
a snowman grinning out of place.
But Christ is not a shelf display,
He doesn’t rush. He finds His way.

No need for glitter, fake delight,
the manger waits in silent night.
Not yet the angels, not yet the song,
just prophets whispering all along.

So let the baubles blink and boast,
we’ll light our candles, not a post.
We’ll wait with Mary, slow and still,
and let God come by holy will.