A poem I wrote under the name of Trabonet in early 2000. When enjoying my rose bushes and messing with them, this poem came to mind because of always getting jabbed by those thorns when I’d try to cut them for putting in a vase. It reminded me of how we should treat a love one or how to treat children (especially as they struggle in their teenage years, and we adjust to how to mentor to their needs). We hold too tight and sometimes children push back.
Three Kings came riding from far away, Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar; Three Wise Men out of the East were they, And they travelled by night and they slept by day, For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.
The star was so beautiful, large and clear, That all the other stars of the sky Became a white mist in the atmosphere, And by this they knew that the coming was near Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.
And cradled there in the scented hay, In the air made sweet by the breath of kine, The little child in the manger lay, The child, that would be king one day Of a kingdom not human, but divine.
His mother Mary of Nazareth Sat watching beside his place of rest, Watching the even flow of his breath, For the joy of life and the terror of death Were mingled together in her breast.