Poetry

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Poor
Zechariah
An old priest,
struck dumb, mute
by the word of God,
the holy angel of God
because of fear, unbelief
uttered in the holy of holies,
the place priests alone could go
where holy sacrifices were made
year after year, to atone for the sins
of the people, of priests, of the chosen
the people of God; he took his turn in that
holy place, was touched, visited by God’s
The Angel Gabriel, messenger of God
Told of a son, to him, Elizabeth; Son
to be a messenger himself, to tell of
the one who was coming so very
so very soon, the cousin who
would save, save us all
if we would believe
where Zechariah
couldn’t didn’t
Believe

December 10, 2006 12:30
Luke 1:5-23

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