A Christian Poem of Playful Anticipation

I wore two socks - one red, one blue,
and called it liturgical preview.
The shops say “Buy!” the angels say “Wait!”
but I’m already humming Luke chapter eight.

The tinsel’s tangled, the baubles bold,
the nativity’s out (but missing a fold).
The wise men march through Halloween,
and shepherds graze near plastic green.

But joy won’t wait for perfect scenes,
it dances through our in-betweens.
It counts the days with giggling grace,
and finds the Christ in every place.

So let the countdown start too soon,
we’ll light our sparks beneath the moon.
For even socks that clash and slide
can walk with God, with joy as guide.