son of thorns
in a little box you made your first noise
king of wood
speaking words that understood
who we are
and where we're going

your first voice was heard in the bitter cold outside
your last cry was heard with a filthy rotting nail
through your hand
or your wrist

but your body
was so tiny
then made holy

but where was God?
was he in you
is he who you are
and am and will be
eternity
mystery

o won't you come back
won't you come back
sometime, like today

and won't you carry
won't you carry
my flesh and my bones
like a ship on a sea
fleeing all my enemies
i want them dead
but you were dead
now you're here