Displaced Redemption

There was a world,
displaced from its axis by
repeated tragedies of its own making,
as the inhabitants attempt to grasp
the credit for it's own creating.
An entire macrocosm misaligned by
embezzling clutches and throning lusts.
Who's history is marked by a needless taking,
and just in case, a pious faking
to appease a possible divinity
as either a patsy or a machine.
There was a world,
decomposing in it's own folly.
Spinning itself dizzy
flailing after impervious

And inside that world there was a people
displaced from its milk and honey
by a ruling superpower.
As the globalising tar of Rome
spread to paint the Empire one culture,
this people had been waiting.
Listening in silence
for the reason of their plight,
Waiting for the sword of a rallying leader
to severe their shackles,
and the throats of the chain-bearers, alike.
Waiting with the same
attitude that inspired the silence,
a misunderstanding of what it is to be chosen.
For the planned restitution exceeds one people.
They were waiting to both receive, and to transport

And inside that people there was a couple
displaced from community, quarters, residence and rest
by political upheaval and imposed census.
Trudging wearily in an ever mutating caravan,
of changing faces at every village.
Crawling with a throb of anger
at the frivolous reason for their imposed voyage.
They carry all they own,
and the echoes of expectations
of a newly shattered worldview.
Aching bones and blistered soles
they swallow the physical pain of moving,
in the necessity of being elsewhere.
Dislodged by

And inside that couple, there was a woman
displaced from mundane hopes,
from insignificance and comfort
by the social stigma of a swelling womb.
Yet that germinating scandal
brings a joy, boundlessly exceeding
the news of any other new life.
There was a woman
pregnant with confusion.
Pregnant with questions.
Pregnant with expectation.
Pregnant with an unaccustomed pride.
Spilling over in the poetry of worship,
for the plan that considers
her worthy of bearing

And inside that woman there was a child
displaced from beyond the firmament
by a love that inspired a choice.
He clasped not at what was his,
but clutched the putrid wormwood
that cocooned my heart.
He claimed not his rightful crown,
but stooped beneath the threshold of
the deepest dungeon of our off-kilter existence.
He grasped the searing core of our folly
and is realigning all things onto his axis.
He looked at the fullness of his task
and still, he chose
to be uprooted by

And inside that child
there in dwells
the fullness of God,
and he offers us

The Poem was written just in time for Christmas 2015, the music recorded in time for Christmas 2016!

The poem uses the timely theme of displacement to explore the incarnation and what happened during the nativity, theologically and personally. You can listen here: 

The melody + sung words of the choruses are adapted from the Children's song 'When The Lord Came to Our Land' by Kim Miller.



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