Fragile
life emerging from hidden
darkness,
struggling to be free.
I have
entered earth’s womb,
descended
stone steps
to the
Cave that reaches into the world's heart.
And in
that warm, enfolding place given thanks
for
the one miracle which embraced all.
To
reach there you must abandon pride,
for
only those who will bow low can enter
through
the narrow cleft which
leads
from a land of light into the
incense-laden,
candle-burning, oiled darkness;
into
the mystery of Nativity.
Here kings have knelt and warriors fearfully halted,
sheathing
their swords that only the Virgin's blood is spil't.
It is
only by way of humility that one may enter.
Beyond gold brocaded curtains,
down
stone steps worn smooth by countless pilgrims,
eyes
closed to the brightness of light to behold
the
Other.
By way
of awe you come
to the myrrh-starred place that only those who bow again
beneath
the stone which shields the embryonic star
can
encounter, kiss, venerate and adore.
For
here life came to be remade in the image of its Maker.
I am
glad to have encountered that place.
Eve of
the Nativity, 2017
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