The following poem is called 'Incarnation'. I wrote it last year, but it never appeared on a blog, perhaps because it appeared on all our Christmas cards instead, which was publication enough! However, here it is in case anyone can use it this year.
How perfect for God to call us this way:
the irresistible invitation of being small
the invitation of the infant, mute, wide-eyed
the rooting mouth's silent innate call
and the turning of his head to the side
the clasping clench of the tiny fist
which, given no more than a fingertip
refuses to let go.
Hi Amy: This is really lovely, a tightly handled description of a tiny baby, exactly how Mary would have experienced Him. I truly love your work, full of insights. (And what Christina Rossetti somehow didn't quite achieve, maybe because she wasn't a mum?)
ReplyDeleteBlessings on you,
Clare