His sacred head lacked a place
To rest, to dream, to weep
From dew-cast night
To dawn-lit day
His house became
Dusty roads beneath beautiful feet
I marvel to see His lack—
No bed, no cup,
Nor feather down
A throneless King
Stooped
Donning splendor in squalor-robes
What kind of itinerant Royalty
Wore homelessness
So I could taste His heaven?
Who wandered
On this pallid earth
To color lifeless souls?
A mysterious Sovereign
Jesus is
Who paradoxed the earth
Who gave up Home
So all could have a place
To rest, to dream, to weep.
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