Under the Oaks at Mamre

Under the Oaks at Mamre,
The Triune Visitor came to sit,
Life, Creator and King, they came
To cool themselves under shaded boughs.

"What occasion brings this call," I asked,
"Why cast your shadow, Lord, here?"

"To gift you," came the LORDS reply, "with a baby in old age."

A laugh is all was heard from inside my tent pitched at Mamre. "Laughable, right, to bear a child in old age?"

"Why now," I pondered as our candles' light has begun to dim, "Would such an idea be conceived?"

Under the Oaks at Mamre,
Sat Prophet, Priest and King.
With two fingers touching Tera's Table
In Life this One as two would spend,
Not divided in Divinity or Humanity, but Divine right for a time Suspend.

Under the Oaks at Mamre,
Sat Counselor, Creator and Comforter.
The Giver of Life, Oh Breath,
Descended to close the chasm of loss.
The Wind of one day's parted waters
To guide home my child's sons from bondage,
Would bring us back here, again, under these Oaks found at Mamre.

Under the Oaks at Mamre sat the LORD bringing news of a gift,
Of a son wrought in old age and a laugh is all we could give.

Now departing from Under the Oaks at Mamre,
This Visitor's time was spent.
Off to light some fire, "My Lord," I called, "come again."

Under the Oaks at Mamre,
The Divine Visitor came to sit.