and now stand we all upon the brink of mystery
for to us, the empty-handed, there has been a child born
uncreated, He has entered human history
life eternal, swaddled in the flesh that we have worn

a life incredible, vivid, excellent.
and now stand we all upon the brink of mystery
for to us, the empty-handed, there has been a child born
uncreated, He has entered human history
life eternal, swaddled in the flesh that we have worn
Who will lift the shroud of night
heaven’s light fresh to reveal
overcome death’s with’ring blight
deign our wounded hearts to heal?
tell us, bethlehem
how the King will come —
enfleshed in the frame of a
child obscure?
the Healer comes
on wings of dawn
your woeful wounds
on Him He takes
o Love gentle, patient, kind
make us once more wholly Thine
look, light has broken
on the darkened world
vanished is the lonely night —
eternity dawns
Jehovah, how can
One so great become so small?
Yahweh, a baby?
poor, his bed is not
even his to claim
at least in human reck’ning
could this be the one
ev’ry soul longs for?
here on a hay bed
open eyes shine black
peering from a tiny face
even still womb-wet
the baby should’ve looked
like someone they knew
or at least recognized
in that tiny town full
of related faces