They wrote, The King is coming, a thousand years before,
He’ll bear the weight of government, royalty, and more;
He said, Your Offspring will crush head, of serpent and of sin,
And though times will be a-trying, the Offspring, He will win.
They heard the Ruler would be born in Bethlehem the small,
Arriving in a tiny town, He’d still be known by all;
Appearing to her one fine day, the angel spoke a word,
He said, Your baby will be holy, note, from God you’ve heard.
But the people were not ready, in Bethlehem that night,
For though they’d grown up hearing tales, they weren’t looking for the Light.
Packing streets, filling inns, eating all the food;
A stable full was all there was to set the birthing mood.
And when the Baby came along, just sheep beheld his face,
Asleep had gone the city, this Bethlehem-town place;
But full of glee, delight, and mirth at all that He had done,
God emptied heaven’s cities full, to herald newborn Son.
He sent the angels, one and all, to shepherds in the sand—
All preparing’s ended now, the King is in this land.
And just like that He came on in, after years of word and warning,
To signal night’s ending now, Him the beginning of the morning.
A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the Lord; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”