An angel said: “Get up.”
He got up, and took wife and baby to Egypt.
The angel said “wait.”
He waited.
On foreign soil.
Soil his ancestors
trudged across
mud and desert to escape.
So that a prophet’s words might be reheard.
“Out of Egypt I have called my son…”
An angel said: “Get up.”
He got up, and took wife and child to Israel.
The angel said the ones with murder in their hearts:
“they’re dead.”
The little family
The Holy Family
Escaped.
Safe.
And the boy lived
To die
On a Good Friday.
And on that day, we live.
“For he will be called a Nazorean.”
An angel said “get up.”
And Joseph did.
Easter followed him.