By MARK AMOROSE
Luke 2:18
Few ever spoke to me for good or ill.
Why should they? Who am I to beg a word?
My father was as nameless as this hill,
as I am who here daily drive and herd.
But last night came one greater than them all —
those hereabout who never notice me —
and he was shining brighter than the ball
that in dark night enables us to see.
He spoke to me the word I speak to you,
told of the long-expected chrismed One,
greater than David, born as David’s son,
less than imagined, more than prophets knew.
The Mighty God whose Name we may not speak
has not despised the nameless and the weak.
Powered by WPtouch Mobile Suite for WordPress