But there's more still. Before Him the eagle is gentle, the lion is meek. Choirs of angels hover over His roof and sing Him to sleep. For he's the Lord, our ruler and guide. If we can only dare, by the grace of God, to believe that the child we seek tonight is the color of wheat, of dawn, of earth, of thorn, then we will find him to be kingly purple and royal blue, the color of gold and crimson too, all those colors wrapped up together in swaddling clothes for those with hearts that want him, with lives that need him, with guts to own him, with hands to hold him.
Some days are yellow.
Some are blue. On different days I'm different too. That may be so for us, seekers this side of heaven. Wheat, dawn, earth, thorn.