Foxes had holes, and birds had their nest;
But Christ was grateful wherever He’d rest.
This was, quite often, some grassy knoll bed
With no pillow to rest His weary head.
Tranquility’s peace would always be His,
In spite of the burden and endless needs,
From confused people, the lost, and diseased.
He baptized, comforted, taught and He healed
He’d listen to all; man, woman and child.
Cries for forgiveness, entreated requests,
For His healing, His touch and later…