The boy Jesus frolics on an Egyptian beach,
Running, kicking in the lace of a wave,
Surrounding himself by droplets filled with light
Resplendent as a creation of suns.
He wraps seaweed about his head
Like a glistening crown.
He owes a death, but ’till that time he has a life.
Wet and gleaming, he cartwheels on the sand,
Flinging high unwounded feet.
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