Through my Davidic, adulterated line,
God’s promise was made flesh with time
A son of David, but not born of mine.
Begotten by his Father to save us swine
My boy born to be royal,
Laid in an animal's table.
Men worshipped the baby below.
Would they still, if they know’d
He would not be the messiah they had hoped?
The mightiest of angels did sing
At the indecent birth of their king.
They thundered their horns,
Now and when the crown trades gold for thorns
His name is salvation, His name is with us;
We named him as we were told, Jesus.
My Mary who wished for child, bore God,
May I, too receive from the Lord on High.
The Wind of God is the very breathe my child breaths.
My baby will one day tread on the seas.
I can't comprehend the newborn divine
Yet he was challenging rabbis since He was nine.
My son, not born of me, was born to die at Calvary
With His blood spilt, His glory filled
From birth did He know He would be killed?
Was that why you cried the night of your birth?
Or was it because you knew just what it was worth?
O’ Herod how great are you to fear my boy so small?
Fear the prophetic advent of the Lord of all?
So, to Egypt now, I must go
To fulfil some scripture from long ago.
Yet from exile, we will return
With the Christ in my arms, and a spirit that burns.
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