The Gift (POEM)

Neal Pollard

 

The manger scene was sweet and mild,
But it was only a part of the plan,
The gift was not given by the swaddling child,
It was paid by the blood of the Man.

His Bethlehem birth was a crucial cog,
Without which His death could not be
But the people who spit, the soldiers who flog
And the pagans who nailed Him did not see

That by God’s prescient sight they helped complete
A present He meant for all men,
Unwitting, unwilling, they led down that street
The Hero who paid for our sin.

The gift was not delivered when He said, “It is done,”
We are miserable if He yet lies in the tomb,
He rose on that Sunday, this victorious Son,
As He’d come from the virgin’s blessed womb.

The gift has been given, this great grace of God
And He asks every person to receive it.
Those who obediently respond with salvation are shod
What a gift it is for all who believe it.

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