In Herod's days, when incense veiled the room,

Zacharias served where golden embers bloomed.

Righteous with Elisabeth, faithful into age,

Yet no child had ever filled their quiet page.

Outside, the people prayed; inside, the lot was cast,

And by the altar stood a messenger at last.

Fear took the priest, but Gabriel calmed the air:

The years had not outlived the reach of prayer.

A son named John, before the morning breaks,

Joy in an old house, mercy wide awake.

Set apart early, turning hearts again,

Making ready people for the Lord to reign.

A son named John, a voice before the dawn,

The promise has a name now; the silence won't last long.

No wine would mark the path appointed for his days,

The Spirit would be with him as he walked the prophet's ways.

Fathers turned to children, rebels turned toward right,

A people made prepared before the coming Light.

But age looked like a wall no word could travel through,

And Zacharias asked for proof that such a thing was true.

Gabriel named the place from which his message came,

Then doubt became a silence till the child would bear his name.

The people wait outside,

The priest comes out with nothing he can say.

His hands can only tell them

That a vision met him where the incense lay.

The service days were finished; home received the silent man,

And Elisabeth conceived according to the plan.

Five months she hid the wonder, years of shame withdrawn,

Knowing mercy had remembered what the waiting years had borne.

No trumpet crossed the hilltops, no palace heard the news,

But promise had begun where heaven chose to choose.

A son named John, before the morning breaks,

Joy in an old house, mercy wide awake.

Set apart early, turning hearts again,

Making ready people for the Lord to reign.

A son named John, a voice before the dawn,

The promise has a name now; the silence won't last long.