Christmas in Egypt - Prince Mensah

O’ little town of Bethlehem where
Black and white and brown live -
Above is the star that draws best minds
From east, west, south and north –
They come to see the infant-king,
To bring him gifts and take back home
Stories of divine epiphany –

But I, on anachronistic plane, leave
Here to there, to witness, to receive
At first-hand, news from shepherds
Still dazed from seeing angels –
They run into town, like their herds,
Shouting loudly, ringing bells,
Announcing mysteries about a Messiah -

I see Black Madonna and
Ebony Jesus – not the Mary and Jesus
In overhyped Hollywood movies,
Not the Scofield-inspired baby
Or the Caucasianized infant –

This is a baby whose ancestresses were
Ruth from Moab and Rahab
Of Jericho – so in Jim Crow terms,
A drop of black blood makes
A person black before the law……

So Jesus was a black boy who grew into
Jesus the black man.

I see Him running through streets
Of Aswan, by burned-down libraries
Of Alexandria with black and brown
Friends from Ghanayem –
Living as Egyptian as he could be.

Wise beyond His years, Son of God, Son
Of Man, living under death threats
From kings, this Jesus knew how to live
In a classist, racist, schist world
Of man-made rules and regulations ….

He came to earth to turn it into
A place fit for a real man –

For reality is not what make-believe is -
Not Santa Claus or his green elves,
Not lights, light music and laughter –
But in the way each person receives
Another, the manner one serves
One’s purposes and the factor
That joy is not exclusive to a group of people –
Since the twenty-fifth is not the only purple
Day in cold December,
Remember -

If Jesus was not black, how could he blend in
With children of black Egypt?
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