Wednesday, December 22, 2010

in human likeness: a poem


o little seed of hope, somehow
taking root in the inner darkness,
being, as it has been said, "knit together,"
what a world awaits your wet arrival,
a cavernous womb of brokenness.

will you yet be born?

you, who are both desired and despised,
welcomed and, with a warrant on your head,
will you still somehow choose this life,
knowing you will be delivered to death?
the world, in anticipation, waits.

o, come.  be born this broken birth
again.

hallelujah.

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