( I thought about the man God gave me and I have not adequate words,
I thought about the Father Who gave His only Son and I am speechless)
When I behold the Master, as He paints a child in the womb,
it leaves me breathless, more then any Rembrandt or Monet;
and a sparrow’s sweet song that pierces my darkest nights,
more genius than a Mozart, even Salieri would have to say.
Amazed at what little I know about the intricate human eye,
it must of left Einstein in wonder like a child Christmas morn;
until he lifted his gaze higher, past the moon and the stars,
making himself look even smaller than when first born.
The faithfulness of the man God placed beside me at the altar,
more than Spring itself, and the lilacs after each winter clears;
for I've watched love story after love story across silver screen,
none holds a candle to ours, closer we get to the golden year.
With few words, as I wake to snowflakes on any December 25th,
speechless at a Bethlehem manger, like no other baby in it laid,
pondering the Child, Who perfected the heart formed from dust,
bleeding from it on a tree that His own Divine hands made.
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Valerie 
