Is the hand that built Orion's belt?
The hand that gently squeezes mine
Is the hand that made the stars align?
The voice I hear to calm my seas
Once spoke and formed the galaxies?
Was the dozing babe in his manger's keep
Upholding the earth, in no need of sleep?
Did the creator of math and gravity
Learn a man's trade as a Nazarene?
With a roar he turns the mighty tides
but whispers at his child's side?
The King who fathered time and space
Came down to wallow in disgrace?
And not just that, but so much more
was granted as the veil was torn
He left his throne to writhe for breath
In victory pulled our souls from death.
