The Father's Son Poem by Randy McClave

His father created the universe
And all that you could look at, and hear and see,
His son was born with an empty purse
He wasn't born entitled or wealthy.
He wasn't born with a golden spoon
His spoon was made only of wood,
He wasn't destined to be a wealthy tycoon
With the working class he proudly stood.
He was born to a working man
And to a mother who was a virgin and true,
Because, that was God's most holiest plan
Because, he loves both me and you.
The son was born as the king of kings
In a manger and on straw,
Where he laid, the birds and the Angel sings
From what they knew and heard and saw.
He wasn't wrapped or covered in silk or satin
Or covered with wealth from head to toes,
He was born in Bethlehem and not Manhattan
Blankets, were his swaddling clothes.
He helped and fed the needy and the poor
As he preached of God's ultimate love,
Helping and loving others he did constantly implore
As was taught by his father from Heaven above.
He didn't believe in weapons to kill or murder
Taught by and said the Lord,
He didn't want anyone to hurt either him or her
Whoever lives by a weapon will die by the sword.
He was born as an immigrant
Because, the politicians and people wanted him dead,
Even though he was Heaven sent
The words of God the accusers ignored and never read.
He turned over the tables of money changers
His prophecy was soon fulfilled,
As his teachings of love and greed of money brought dangers
Then the politicians and the wealthy had him killed.

Randy L. McClave