The Eternal Gift of Christmas, a poem by Dawn Minott at Spillwords.com

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The Eternal Gift of Christmas

Dawn Minott·December 26, 2024

English Poetry Christmas

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The Eternal Gift of Christmas

written by: Dawn Minott

In the hush of night, a starry beacon gleams
A cosmic lullaby of celestial themes
Not wrapped in ribbons or worldly array
Yet the greatest present in the quiet hay

Beneath the fir’s branches a story unfolds
A narrative timeless, in history it molds
No glittering trinkets can rival the glow
Of this child’s first breath in the stable’s soft throw

Beyond the carols and festive cheer’s embrace
Resides the essence of a deeper boundless grace
Unseen by many, yet felt in the heart
The gift unadorned, a masterpiece of art

Not under a Christmas tree, not displayed for show
Nor wrapped in paper or tied with a bow
God birthed as babe in a manger lowly lie
The eternal gift each Christmas and everyday going by

Whether under the tree or the starlit sky
The message lingers as the years slip by
In the simplicity, the joy finds its way
A newborn hope to guide each and every day

About
Latest Posts

Dawn Minott

Creative soul. Artsy to the core. Poet, Speaker, Author. An unapologetic lover of God, of love and of all things nature. Hardcore logophile with an epigrammatic style. I am motivated to write from observing what I believe God created-by-design like nature, family, love, and relationship. My work has been published in anthologies, magazines and newspapers then I later wrote and published my first book: “Moments: A Poetic Heart Journey”. And I continue to write. When I’m not writing creatively, I work for an international organization to promote social progress, better living standards and human rights.

Jim Bartlett

After a long career tinkering in telecommunications, Jim Bartlett switched to tinkering with writing fiction, both requiring a stretch of the imagination. In the course of putting his fingers to the keyboard, he's been fortunate to have quite a number of his stories featured both in print and online in several wonderful publications, including a story selected for "The Best of Fiction on the Web, 1996 – 2017" anthology. While mentally he strolls along a warm California beach with his wife and golden retriever (shhh, she doesn't know she's a dog), physically they reside on a special little island in the Pacific Northwest.

Reaper by Sharon Frame Gay

As an orphaned son of an orphan, I always see the glass as half empty. I picture the water murky and lukewarm, a waterline etched below the rim. Maybe with an ash or two floating at the bottom, because that’s what I do for a living. I deal with ashes. The remains of the deceased. No matter how those who pass away see their glass, meager or full, they eventually end up in a satchel carried on my shoulder.
My business card reads “Morton Stark Transport.” I’m called upon to disperse the ashes of the dearly departed and honor their final wishes. People hire me to escort the remains throughout the world ...

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