dirty hands, grubby faces

I have watched nativity plays, and watched them being filmed and watched the play on the device as it is being filmed and wanted to scream,  just watch the … play. 

Is life now only real when on a screen?

 

There is another world, of that I am convinced.
Not a heavenly realm above the stars, out of reach
as the stories of old would have us conceive.
And not the world of the fluffy white clouds,
men in white robes and cherubs with harps.

I have caught a glimpse now and again,
perhaps when it thought I was not looking.
The brightness draws me to ponder the meaning
As tinsel halos dance in the lights before us,
dirty hands, grubby faces more honest than words on pages.

It is an ordinary place, looks much like this.
as people gather to usher in a new beginning.
There is another world, and it is not far off.
It opens before us in simple words of welcome
Shows its face as we offer ourself to each other.

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