what perfect form
would veil luminous life
let untouched glory go
for the smell of donkey dung
for the burn of a midday sun
what God would sail to earth
to take up my dead flesh
to sing strength to my corruption
and bear my ever-broken bones
who would do what has been undone
hold this hypocrite leper’s hand

this king, this lord, this eternal lover
this Christ has come to pray
and with concerned compassion say

you are worth this world to me
worth the hammered hell
worth curse and death
to give you cleansed eternal breath
upon this Christmas day