Oh God,

come any other way,

but not as a child.

Come in a space ship

so we can call you alien,

and just a figment.

Wash up on shore

as a castaway, an unknown,

scraggly and salt soaked.

Walk into town as a vagabond

so we can look and call authorities

to distance us.

Stand by the side of the road

with a cardboard sign

so we can hand you a twenty and drive on.

But please don’t come as a baby.

Don’t come and coo and cry

and take our breath away.

Don’t come as we did,

dependant and humble

and wrapped up tight.

Just don’t, don’t be so vulnerable

as a wonder from a womb

bathed in the liquid of humanity.

Don’t come as a child, please.

For then we would need to

hold you in our arms.

Don’t come as an infant

so innocent and small

for we might get emotional.

Don’t come as we once were

to become as we

should be.

Don’t come in this mysterious way

for then we might come

and adore You.