Born to Die (that we may live)

Our newborn King lies in a manger bed
Swaddled in clothes, by his mother lain,
Soon to wear a crown of thorns upon his head.

A jealous king desired to see him dead,
Command that every child his age was slain,
Our newborn King lies in a manger bed.

Shepherds in fields heard what the angels said,
Worship for their King they could not contain,
Soon to wear a crown of thorns upon his head.

Wise kings in the East by a star were led,
But in Bethlehem they would not remain,
Our newborn King lies in a manger bed.

His mother’s heart will ponder this instead:
Who is my son to cause kings to proclaim?
Soon to wear a crown of thorns upon his head.

Her babe will grow and be pierced, bleeding red,
To wash away each sin, blemish, and stain.
Our newborn King lies in a manger bed,
Soon to wear a crown of thorns upon his head.

The above is a poem I wrote that connects Christmas to Easter. It is a villanelle (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Villanelle) and is something I reflect on this Holy Week.

-Janna Wiebe

Thank you!

I'm glad that you enjoyed it! :)

-JW

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