No other way could tiny child have been protected quite so well.
A world attuned through inspirationed prophecy
to glorious marvels faithful ones would grasp.
A gentle mother pure as love itself,
her heart prepared to cherish her own babe.
The kindly Joseph ready standing.
Long a righteous law-led man, yet
loath to even righteously condemn
a sin that was in fact no sin at all.
And when inspired insight guided sight,
a shield from shaming sneers of "friends."
Nor would decree-forced journeying
make him desert his close-held guardianship.
He took her with him as he crossed the land—
to David's Bethlehem.
The place of travail might have seemed untoward,
but had it not a hallowed quiet?
No other way could secret sanctuary have been provided quite so well.
Not hometown curiosity, mortal fears,
or small-thought doubts.
No tired rowdy travelers crowded in, nor
years' accumulations of civilized decay.
A fresh-filled manger with sweet-smelling hay
was ready to receive the tiny one.
The placid beasts that stood nearby
could well support the heavenly purpose—
steadfast in their warmth, content in
only-natural-as-sunrise birthing.
No other way could heavens proclaim the grand occurrence quite
so well.
A worldwide astronomical phenomenon
startled awake the learned minds to what
was happening long desired. And with a
steady leading, guided the far-searching thought
to a child
Uniquely sheltered, unmistakable, recognized without delay.
