Zechariah’s Thorn

His turn came around, This man named Zechariah

Along with all the other priests, waiting on the Messiah

They cast the lots, and the chosen one went inside of

The Holy of Holies, the fount of Jewish desire.


He lit up the incense and he froze in his place

When Gabriel appeared, the color rushed from his face.

The fear that had grabbed him, that altered his gaze

Was affixed on this messenger straight from the pearly gates


“Don’t be afraid,” much easier said than done

His muscles probably twitched, his reflex was to run.

I can only imagine how those words made him undone

Why shouldn’t I be afraid? I’m gonna have a son!


His name will be John, and he will be your joy

He’ll be filled up with the Spirit, even as a little boy

He’ll make straight the path, he’ll bring my people back

He’ll get the nations ready for the real McCoy


He had a lot of questions, as any of us would

My wife and I are barren, Do you think this even could

Happen to us in our old age? Do you think we even should?

­­­­­­­­­­­We’ve been praying for forever, we remember God is good.


But how can I be sure? Then Gabriel interrupted

He’ll walk in power like Elijah if you keep him uncorrupted

Raise him in the truth, don’t let him come up maladjusted

His walk will match his talk, his words so true they’ll be trusted


But Zechariah, why are you so untrusting?

Your words are so faithless, they need readjusting.

So disgusting, sounds dirty like cussing,

Don’t you know this plan of mine will usher in THA King?


But the thorn in his flesh, or in this case his voice

Reminded everyday that he couldn’t make a noise

For nine months he waited, then God delivered him a boy

Now with hindsight and history, we know to rejoice