By Renee Normandeau, Written April 11, 2020

It's soft like a whisper. 
Hard for anyone to know.
It's where the lowest are high,
and the highest are low.

It's a king in the manger,
Shepards in a field,
Our Saviour Jesus,
To the lowly revealed.

It's rags that are riches.
Blind men that see.
An open invitation
For you and for me.

It's an innocent Jesus.
His death on a tree.
With Cloth and not armour,
Nails through His feet.

It's death into life.
Hope through His pain.
A truth that is hidden,
A kingdom that came. 

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