Promises
Upon the brow of a barren ridge
A donkey etched against the sky,
Its burden shot through with labour pain,
Its guide cajoling passers by.
"No room." they say, "Blame Caesar's tax.
But there's a place where the cattle stay."
And meek as peasants must learn to be,
They settle down upon the hay.
A smoking lantern for a nurse,
Rough bands of cloth to adorn a king,
A shepherd's pipe to announce the birth,
A doleful fanfare for suffering.
Upon the brow of a barren ridge,
Three crosses etched against the sky,
Their burdens ravaged with dying pain
Insulted by the passers by.
One figure bows his grieving head,
Another, crowned, says: "Come, be with me."
And what God promised in Bethlehem
Was put in doubt at Calvary.
And yet my story has one more twist,
That Christ who died rose from the dead;
And sent the Spirit to take his place;
Thus doing everything he said.