The Nativity

She bent over in agony and rage,

the pain in her belly burrowing

into her head and heart, her soul,

while the farting animals watched.


Her stolen insides were hardening

as she fought with her body to 

bring to the light a boy that

would one day fight with his own


high on the tree. As blood seeped 

high on the tree, as blood seeped 

from her womb, it flowed from him

who brought her tears of joy

and a graveyard  lament


with birth pangs that gripped

her grief contracting vision,

stretching her, God cried out 

in agony, as Christ is born.

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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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