The trip to Bethlehem

Haiku responding to Lk 2:1-14

A head-count becomes

the occasion for the trip

to Bethlehem town.

Joseph took Mary

to the city of David;

he was from that tribe.

Mary delivered

her baby in a stable.

(No room in the inn!)

Shepherds in the fields,

(low on the pecking order),

watching sheep at night.

An angel arrived,

speaking God's good news: Fear not,

I tell of great joy!

A child has been born

in Bethlehem, David's town,

a Saviour, the Christ.

This will be a sign;

he's lying in a manger,

wrapped in bands of cloth.

A mob of angels

turn up, praising God, singing:

Peace to all on earth!

© Ken Rookes 2025 

Stable and shepherds

Haiku of the nativity

 

We love Luke’s stories

with the stable and shepherds,

humble and common.

Joseph, his child-bride,

the journey to Bethlehem,

no place of welcome.

I imagine them;

humble northerners, seeking.

Will we welcome them?

Making folk welcome

is not on our agenda,

Sorry, there’s no room.

In a stable, shed;

an improvised bed, cradle.

Yes, these will do fine.

Wrap him in cloth strips.

Thus they will dress him when Luke

concludes his story.

The angels fly in

with shining invitations

for lowly shepherds.

The shepherds turn up,

take in the wonder; return,

telling ev’ryone.

© Ken Rookes 2021

Harassed and helpless

Harassed and helpless

Haiku for labourers

Are they any less

harassed and helpless, the crowds

of the lost, today?

Caught up in the lies

and the dodgy promises

of fear peddlers.

Sheep without shepherds,

with none to watch over them,

and no-one who cares.

We care about you,

they cry, those seeking profit,

those craving power.

He sent out the twelve.

They are lost, they are fearful;

Touch their lives with love.

Tell them, The kingdom

is coming near. Share good news,

bring healing and hope.

© Ken Rookes 2020

The birth

Haiku of wonder

When a king is born

the stories must reflect it

with wonder and awe.

Apart from angels,

this narrative is humble,

with a common cast.

Comes to Bethlehen,

the tradie with his girl-bride,

about to give birth.

A shed out the back

of a packed-out small-town pub.

Nothing flash in that!

A son is born, wrapped

in cloth strips and put to bed

in a feeding trough.

Shepherds get the news:

the Messiah has been born,

look for a baby.

This will be the sign:

a baby in a manger,

in David’s city.

The shepherds decamped

to see for themselves the child,

as they had been told.

They told ev’ryone

about the child, the one born

to save his people.

© Ken Rookes. 2018

A wondrous yarn

Haiku of an often told story

There are no records

of the birth of the Messiah;

just an old story.

An anxious couple

seeking a place of shelter.

The time is at hand.

In a crowded town,

a stable, strangely, becomes

a delivery ward.

A baby is born,

this thing of joy and wonder.

Happens ev'ry day.

Shepherds tending sheep,

angels winging in the sky;

a fabulous yarn.

Go and check it out!

The baby in a manger,

with his mum and dad.

The infant is found;

it was as the angel said.

They are all amazed.

The shepherds return

singing, “Glory!” praising God,

They tell everyone.

© Ken Rookes 2016

Micah from Moresheth

Micah from Moresheth,

in the region of Judah,

gave us Bethlehem as the location

for the birth of the Messiah.

Perhaps he stopped by at the little town

on his one-day journey to Jerusalem

to do his prophecy thing.

He posed a challenge for gospel writers,

Luke and Matthew:

how to arrange for Jesus from Nazareth

to be born in Bethlehem, three days to the south.

For the one, it was a census; for the other,

fear, a massacre, and the return to a new home

after refuge in a foreign land.

For the one, the drama of a stable birth

with flights of angels and bewildered shepherds.

For the other, a fearful escape

and the vulnerability of refugees.

They each give us reason to pause

and reflect upon the strange purposes

of an even stranger God.

I wonder, if Luke was writing today,

might it be the homeless and the hopeless,

camped beneath a bridge, who would be

the subjects of the angelic invitation?

I wonder, if Matthew was writing today,

would he write of the kindness

of the people-smugglers

who helped the Holy family

reach their place of welcome and safety?

© Ken Rookes

Shepherd Dreaming

Shepherds, shepherds, sheep, sheep;

in the hills, there they sleep.

There they sleep, ready to wake

should the world around them shake.

There they dream, taking flight

upon the stillness of the night;

dreams of hope, and dreams of wonder

dreams of worlds torn asunder;

dreams of places friendly, warm,

of colours bright, of darkening storm;

dreams of tears, songs and laughter

dreams of life and what comes after;

dreams of parties, wine and food,

fearful dreams and dreams of good;

dreams of beauty, dreams of peace,

yearning that the strife should cease;

dreams of moon and stars of night,

of waiting for the dawning light;

dreams of aging, dreams of youth,

dreams of searching, dreams of truth.

So the dreams continue long

into the night, until a song,

soft with beauty, loud with love,

interrupting from above,

calls dreamers back; back to earth

and dust, announcing human birth.

A child is here, amidst the straw,

a humble birth, unnoticed, poor;

here love divine has come to dwell:

come and see, then go and tell!

© Ken Rookes