NATIVITY

Heavy with child, by wavering hope sustained, 

you made the trek to Bethlehem—a town

so overwhelmed with strangers it retained

no room for welcome. Birthing, you lay down

in a cave, out of the wind—a roof, some straw,

and Joseph to call the midwife in and stand 

by anxiously. A little fire to thaw

the chill and heat the water. And the hand

of God near hidden in the dark. Your part

to be delivered of the promised child

and hold in your lap the mystery, born not

of the will of flesh or man, but of the wild

desire of God to be held in your caress

and enter human life in helplessness.