The Traveler’s Lament

I met the carpenter and his bride
as I journeyed from Trye.
Because they were from lowly Nazareth
I scoffed them with a sneer

Little did I know of the burden
of her womb care,
Little could I know of the Love
she held there.

Hardly a word was spoken when
in Bethelhem we arrivied,
So heavy was the sorrow that
she carried inside.

While I and my party slept
in the open court of the inn,
She and her husband sought room
in the outer cave there in.

I was among the throng that
was to be tallied that year.
Yet the child that she birthed
created the first angel’s cheer.

I met the carpenter from
Nazareth at the Jordan flow
When John washed Him and the
Heavens sounded the glory roll

I did not know then that this
was the one whose mother
Was the tired bride on donkey’s
back some thirty years sunder.

I was there when he was put
on the cross last week
Still, I did not know him or
did I yearn to seek.

My journey now at a close
and I look at an empty grave.
I see now that the road to Bethlehem
was the Salvation’s way to pave.

Never to sneer again, the Nazareth Child
Nor to doubt His Awesome Power,
For in His forgiving Grace,

Paul Shiras 12/83

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