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Rated: E · Poetry · Holiday · #1859703
A familiar story to most...
Once upon a time, many years ago,
A very special child was received.
He was born in a manger with no place to go,
His future and purpose preconceived.

The birth was foretold, by generations old,
In books and psalms from afar.
Those that bore witness had come to behold,
A miracle proclaimed by a star.

Man's future lay, swaddled in hay,
His mission, transgressions to bear.
Surrounded by animals, shepherds and Kings,
With good tidings and gifts brought to share.

Do you suppose that there were those,
That knew who this child would soon be?
The living word, the one that arose,
Sent here to save you and me.

That night in a stable, a child proved able,
To inspire all nations to pray.
A story was cast, one sure to last,
It was proclaimed a glorious day.

Years went past but few people asked,
What became of that fortunate Son?
A man came forth and performed great tasks,
That inspired and astonished everyone.

As it turned out, many learned about,
His ability to heal and foresee.
His fan base grew and many soon knew,
That this child was the prophecy.

He taught how to give, to love and forgive,
Performed a miracle or two.
He set an example for people to live,
Through suffrage, abuse and solitude.

One day a friend, one loyal to the end,
Pointed him out in a crowd.
Those that he served had forsaken him,
Admonished and cursed him out loud.

He was sentenced die, for no reason why,
He carried his burden on his back.
His head was adorned with a crown of thorns,
He never complained of what he lacked.

He struggled at times, but managed to climb,
The hill where his cruel fate had led.
He was nailed and tied for committing no crime,
People watched as his hands and feet bled.

They lifted him there, up into the air,
On a cross firmly fixed in the ground.
All he could bear was to suffer and stare,
As onlookers gathered all around.

Many souls left, bereaved and bereft,
Unable to watch or comprehend,
Those that stayed, silently prayed,
That his suffering would mercifully end.

When his time came, he offered no blame,
He asked only his Father forgive.
"They knew not their sins or where to begin,
To atone for the lives that they live".

As he died, all mankind cried,
At that moment it began to sink in.
This was that child that years ago lie,
Swaddled with the sin of all men.

That hallowed day, far, far away,
On the eve of man's eternal cost.
Jesus journey began, that first Christmas day,
A journey from manger to cross.



Copyright © December 2009
Kevin Mooney

kmm001

123109
© Copyright 2012 kmooney (kmooney at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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