previous entry :: next entry

shepherds at the manger

Dan's poem is up on the Waiting Well blog today. The first time I read it I teared up a little bit. My husband, who is so much like a shepherd in his calm approach to birth and mess and and caring for his animals (children included) is also so beautifully poetic.

[edit:] Here's the poem, for posterity after Waiting Well is no more:

Then quiet stillness, dark, absence;
back to night’s chill, sifting mist,
breath wreathing, charged with questions:
was that—
did you—
It doesn’t happen but it did:
heaven’s message boldly delivered,
go and see.

The second stable—breathless search—
look in, enter uncertainly;
used to stables, used to births,
unsure about
But there’s the baby, straw-bedded,
new-born king anointed of heaven:
worship him.

The mother in the background, waiting, still;
resting and recovering, witnessing silently
the first brushes of the world’s attention.
So few
hours old:
their messiah, story for grandsons;
her suckling child, sole charge,
baby boy.

previous entry :: next entry