A baby’s cry pierces the dark night
Breath begins
A hanging man cries, “It is finished!”
Breathing ends
A precious child, sinless and pure
Wrapped in clothes against the cold
He who knew no sin, becomes sin
That he might be our righteousness
A Christmas babe
A dying man
As dark night follows the bright day
So Love bids one follow the other
But Sunday morning comes
And there is hope.