Mary’s Song

This is a poem I wrote years ago and just found in my files:

The familiar odor of straw
In the feed box
Where I lay
Gave meager comfort
Through that lengthy night
Of labor.
Waiting to behold
The joy within me grown,
I feared I would be dazzled by His light.
Such painful entry to a pain filled world.
At last I saw my own beloved son.
My God,
A baby!
A red and wrinkled, mewing little thing,
Mine to teach manhood,
Ours to find divine.
How could the sky not crack and fall
That He, Almighty, should have entered thus
This aching world?

I smiled and held him close,
Stilling his tiny wails with my own gift
Of motherhood,
Blessed among women that I knew
My child would surely live to bring us life.

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Janet Ann Collins

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