Isaiah 9
By W. T. Weatherly

             
     A nation in shadows
     In a world of darkness
     Led by men who shut their eyes.

         In the darkness, the blind lead.
         Until the dawn.

     A nation without heir
     In a world without a king
     The rebels sharpen their knives.

         And then a Child is born.
         A Son is given.

     Heat the swords, beat them well,
     Gather the garments soaked in blood
     And the soldier's hobnailed boots of war.
     Pile them high and watch them burn.
     The dogs of war whimper and retreat.

     All hail the might of God!
     The Father Everlasting, the Prince who brings Peace.
     On the shoulders of the son
     The government rest, at peace.

         This child, this son, this light
         Is God's light, God's son, God's peace
         And we rest at peace upon his shoulders.


1997 W. T. Weatherly