I pulled this poem from my vault.  It’s an oldie that I wrote some time ago in the Middle East as I meditated on the mystery of the Incarnation.


One cell inside of her

The world outside her body is chaos
The star is already in the sky and the men on their camels are coming
The cell divides and life is stirring
The white flash of light returns with the rushing voice and its message

She rests her hand nervously on her stomach and whispers to it
“You are that you are – inside of me”
Like a chill these words ripple through the room and
Into the dusty street, catching onto the breeze to swirl away

Beyond these winds past the mists of cloud and the blue canvas sky her day is painted with, the quiet whisper has been carried to its place and heard by the God of heaven
And he is pleased

One cell inside of her, now four, now the familiar form of a human child
So delicate – the God of the universe unborn
Yet the same yesterday, the same forever

The fullness of time has arrived and all of heaven is waiting
Like every human breath since the creation has been held until this moment
For the fresh air of beginning

All the pulsing madness stops to hush over the city of David as though every living thing is watching
The strained cramping is stronger now and she pushes through tears
In an instant between breaths, she sees a picture of a
Heart pounding with blood that drips
Flows, then rushes from a source deeper than veins
She cannot see its beginning point but understands it is ancient
Images of a cross, a teacher, a field of sheep, flash across her mind

Blue-white strobes
But it stretches further – further yet
To a moment when stars were formed and a tender hand gathered up dust, forming a never seen but somehow familiar creation
In a torrent of her own breath she cries out
A wave of air brings forth life and spirit in tandem

All of the host of heaven cry “Holy, holy, holy is the Lamb!”

Mary wraps him in a warm cloth and draws him to herself.  Touching the arm of her husband she speaks to the child, afraid to disturb the silence
“God is with us”

And in that moment she had no need to strain to hear the silent voice pronounce for all eternity the words
“My Beloved”

© 2000 andrew kooman