His next big entrance
Will be a real show stopper,
The trumpet resounding
Summoning all
Of Heaven
And Nature
To the Final act,
Every eye will see
And many will wish they hadn't,
The Sun will Melt
And the Moon will wain,
Like blood red wax
As Heaven and earth
And the old Order
Pass away
On the great and terrible day
Of his coming.
Those who pierced him
Will look on him
And be pricked
To the quick
The dead will rise
To the meet the triumphant angels
In the skies
And his voice
Will be the thunderous sound
Of Many waters
And his face shall shine
Like lightening.
The Son of God
Sure can make an entrance,
But at the event
Of his advent
No ear can hear his coming
As if on tip toes
He creeps into the stable,
Through the stage side-door,
Bare,
And
Barely noticed,
Unremarkable
He could be anyone.
But then The super-natural God
Makes a habit
Of inhabiting the ordinary.
And, In a way,
Between making these two entrances
He made millions of entrances,
Making selective incisions
Into lives
Into hearts,
And
As the dear Christ enters in,
He made an entrance
For all to come
As top to bottom
He tore the veil,
And made an entrance.
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