Behold the babe on straw there lie Within the manger of the beast. Think of the death he'll one day die, And how, just as the cattle feast On fodder, not on squealing prey, We too sustain our souls on fare Which neither fights nor flees away, Nor does it come like costly ware; But without price or money spent, All, even to the earth's far ends, Derive a perfect nourishment From what he, dying, thus expends. The sustenance we thereby draw Beyond life's bounds shall overbrim. The beasts shall feed upon the straw, Our souls shall feed alone on him.
K.D. Taylor received his B.A. in English from Oregon State University. He enjoys power metal, fruit smoothies, and fantasy paintings (often simultaneously).