Icon of Nativity

Life Is Born

days upon weeks upon months
with early weeks in nausea
middle time in rounded glow
nearing birth with heavy load …
like the moment of death’s guise
and then always: a surprise –
new breathing, new voice emerges
eyes squinting, white with vernix
vulnerable and small, tiny blinks,
cut from cord’s lifeline and all
nourishment sucked at mother’s breast
dependent for existence
and yet born for repentance
crying in her arms, no rest
through cold desert night, destined
to survive with insistence
despite all human resistance
to be Being, given love
and being Love from above,
cuddled, stroked, kissed with a nod:
burst of life who is our God.

by Virginia M. Kimball, November 2009

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