A Stick, a Carrot & String

the horse's hay beneath his head

our Lord was born to a manger bed

that all whose wells run dry

could drink of his supply

to keep him warm, the sheep drew near

so grateful for His coming here

come with news of grace

come to take my place

the donkey whispered in his ear

"child, in 30-some-odd years

you'll ride someone who looks like me

untriumphantly"

the cardinals warbled a joyful song

he'll make right what man made wrong

bringing low the hills

that the valleys might be filled

then "child", asked the birds

"well, aren't they lovely words we sing?"

the tiny baby layed there

without saying anything

at a distance stood a mangy goat

with the crooked teeth and a matted coat

weary eyes and worn

chipped and twisted horns

thinking "maybe I'll make friends someday

with the cows and the hens in the rambouillet

but for now, I'll keep away

I've got nothing smart to say"

there's a sign on the barn

in the cabbage town

"when the rain picks up

and the sun goes down

sinners, come inside

with no money, come and buy

no clever talk, nor a gift to bring

requires our lowly, lovely king

come now empty handed, you don't need anything"

and the night was cool

and clear as glass

with the sneaking snake in the garden grass

deep cried out to deep

the disciples fast asleep

and the snake perked up

when he heard You ask

"if you're willing that

this cup might pass

we could find our way back home

maybe start a family all our own"

"but does not the Father guide the Son?

not my will, but yours be done.

what else here to do?

what else me, but You?"

and the snake who'd held the world

a stick, a carrot and a string

was crushed beneath the foot

of your not wanting anything