In My Mother’s Womb

My mother’s heart beats strong. 

Every fiber of her being seeps into mine.

Humanity and Divinity joined in one.

Though I be small as a mustard seed…

She contemplates who I am.

My cousin leaps as I draw near.

From my aunt’s womb, he cries out…

Make haste! Prepare the way of the Lord.

My aunt rejoices and calls my mother blessed.

And my mother, full of grace, sings praises to her King.

My young father worries for her, for me.

I kick his trembling hands upon my mother’s belly.

He laughs. My mother laughs, too.

His steady hands will teach me to sculpt wood.

I will embrace the wood, mold it to a sign of hope.

Donkeys bray, children giggle, carts churn.

My mother gives a kind word to each weary traveler.

My father knocks but each door closes.

Will no one make room in their heart?

The night grows still and silent.

The rustling of hay, 

A manger made ready.

Creation quakes for its Creator. 

Hosts of angels await.

My mother’s womb trembles…