Wednesday, December 23, 2015

357. Eleventh Day of Christmas

I am the maiden, Mary.
I did the Christ Child carry.
He saved the world so wary.

I had not known a man before that day 
The angel came and spoke this word to me.
"You are with child. The Lord is on his way.
Our lord has chosen you. Oh blessed be."
"This cannot be, for I am pure as light.
My body is mine own. No other shares.
And yet if what you say is true and right,
Please let this be. I'll take on me His cares."
And so I sit here, virgin great with child.
Returning to be husband yet to be.
I must approach him, hesitant and mild.
I only hope he'll see the light in me.
My death or life is in his hands to choose.
I pray to God he will his good heart use.

I come to Joseph with hands trembling.   He can have me killed for this. 
This babe I carry is the Savior. I am a virgin still. 
He reaches for my hand with care. My life is spared this day.

This carpenter of Nazareth
Has brought me to his home.
I pause and take a quiet breath.
I am no more alone.
This Joseph is companion sweet.
He cares. He shows concern.
With understanding we now meet.
Our living he will earn.

The child is the Lord
Sent from heaven
To save the world
I'll do my best to raise him
My child.
My baby.
The son of prophecy

Mother 
Always
Remembers
You

Sacrifice. Spirit. Soul. Serene. Sent.

He comes tonight and yet there is
No place for us sleep.
"How can this be? My Lord, prepare
A place for me," I weep."

Pain. Push. Plead.

My son is here. This little light
Has brought me warmth on this dark night.

Prophecies foretell
The sacrifice he will make
For now he is mine

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