With the earth betrayed by war and hate
And a comet slashing the sky to warn
That time runs out and the sun burns late
That was no time for a child to be born,
In a land in the crushing grip of Rome;
Honor and truth were trampled by scorn –
Yet here did the Saviour make his home.
When is the time for love to be born?
The inn is full on planet earth,
And by a comet the sky is torn –
Yet Love still takes the risk of birth.
John Franklin Hay
Indianapolis, Indiana, USA