Celestial Design

When I fell to the earth,
No clouds did break my fall,
I landed on soft dirt,
And broke no bones at all.

A crowd soon gathered there,
Amazed that I survived,
A helpless child lay bare,
On that stone cold hillside.

But from whence had I come,
And who had dropped me here?
Angel or devil’s son,
Not of this earth was clear.

Yet as a child I cried,
And someone took me in;
As to my source, she lied
And raised me as her kin.

So way led onto way,
And I grew straight and strong;
She never once did say,
What I knew all along.

Yes play the part I did,
That of a human child;
To man I grew from kid,
And all I met, beguiled.

My powers I held in check,
And played the common tune,
So no one there would guess,
My mother was the moon.

But who was yet my sire?
Before this story’s done,
The heavens did conspire;
My father was the sun!

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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