From Nazareth, a truth began to grow,
A quiet life that we are meant to know.
A craftsman's hands, so strong with wood and stone,
He built a truth, a path to call His own.
He walked among the common and the poor,
And left a grace upon each humble door.
We ponder on the path He gently trod,
A quiet fellowship with sons of God.
He chose no scholars, and no men of might,
But drew them onward with a holy light.
A gentle force that had a righteous aim,
To teach the world to call upon His name.
His teachings were a whisper in the air,
A loving truth beyond all worldly care.
He spoke of grace, a kingdom built on love,
A gentle rule from sacred realms above.
A re-imagining of a simple creed,
A new foundation born from selfless deed.
He spoke of seeds a sower cast on land,
That fell on rock, or in a thorn-choked stand.
But some on soil so fertile, deep, and true,
Would bring forth fruit, both fresh and strong, and new.
A truth of souls that hear and understand,
The whispered grace that comes from His own hand.
And of a shepherd, with a hundred sheep,
Who left the ninety others, fast asleep.
To find the one that wandered from the fold,
A tale of love so precious to be told.
He sought the lost, and held it to His breast,
And brought it home to find a final rest.
His acts were wonders that the heart recalls,
A grace that answered to a people's calls.
He healed the sick and gave the blind new sight,
And filled the darkness with His holy light.
He fed the crowds with bread and simple fish,
And gave so freely, to fulfill a wish.
But oh, the sadness as the day grew late,
A rising conflict with a bitter hate.
The powers that were felt their world give way,
And plotted in the quiet of the day.
The tension built, a world of fear and doubt,
And then they planned to cast their Savior out.
I think upon His final, somber walk,
To silence all His gentle, loving talk.
Betrayed by one, a trial filled with lies,
Condemned by men who feared His patient eyes.
A final stand, a truth they could not bear,
A lonely journey filled with all our care.
He died, a victim of a human plot,
A final lesson we have not forgot.
The tomb was sealed, a victory for man,
A final act in a most perfect plan.
But on the third day, lo, the stone was cast,
A silent victory that was meant to last.
He rose and gave His followers new grace,
And left a gentle message in that place.
He showed them how a new world could be born,
And left a promise for a coming morn.
His life, His truth, a memory for all,
A constant love to answer every call.
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