This is a poem written by a friend of mine who will of course become a world famous author.

The Mightiest King and the Simplest Manger

by Jason Cootey

A powerful king is born to a humble carpenter and his humble wife.

The crumbled manger cradles the innocent babe in swaddling clothes.

Splintered, decaying wood merely holding fresh hay for hungry animals.

Not the son of a great ruler nor of a socially sharp queen.

Not a crib of ornate silver and gold with sparking jewels and delicately carved sculptures.

He was born in a tiny cave full of shadows.

A rocky floor hidden by dried straw.

The raw smell of a crowded stable with sweating animals.

Not a grandiose palace of marble and silk, freshly fragranced by fine perfumes.

A company of shepherds, stinking of sheep, bow the knee.

Their robes are stained with mud and grass, tattered and worn from years of daily use.

Humble silence as they consider the baby king of mankind in their simple minds.

Not surrounded by noblemen  and women dressed in fine clothes with bright colors.

Gossip and deceit dripping from their tongues in secret, murmuring whispers.

 

This helpless newborn is the mightiest of kings.

His bright, energetic eyes search the stable curiously.

His soft feet wave playfully in the air from within his blanket.

The joy of innocence smiles between each smooth cheek.

This mighty king doesn’t care for an earthly throne.

This mighty king will be a carpenter with calloused hands from his craft.

This mighty king will wear simple raiment, and will befriend the leprous.

This is the Earth’s mightiest king and he lays silently in the simplest manger.

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