In the throes of Alexandria’s ancient breath, There lived a bishop, his name Athanasius, bound to faith. A man of cloth, of spirit and divine intellect, A sentinel of truth, the Arian heresy to intercept.
Verses of rhythm, in his honor, we write, To celebrate the shepherd, who brought forth light. Holding fast to Nicene truths with all his might, His wisdom, a beacon, piercing the theological night.
St. Athanasius, bishop bold, In Alexandria’s streets, his tale was told. In the echoes of church bells, in the whispers of prayer, His legacy lives, in the incensed air.
Against the grain, he dared to tread, His strong belief, like golden thread, Interwoven in the fabric of our creed, Planting firm the Trinitarian seed.
Metaphors of his life, like an oasis in sand, Guide us through, the spiritual wasteland. His words, the compass, that guide our soul, To reach faith’s zenith, our eternal goal.
Oh, Saint Athanasius, voice firm and clear, Your legacy of devotion, we hold dear. In times of turmoil, in times of strife, Your writings remind us, of the essence of life.
A stanza for your courage, a verse for your faith, Rhymed in the annals, of the human wraith. Your life, a sonnet, your faith, a song, Your truth, a chorus, to which we belong.