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A Christmas Poem

Mary looking lovingly at newborn baby Jesus.


Big with the wonder of it
she held the gentle arm
she had learned to lean on
since the night of his dream
and both walked to the dark space
they were given.

We’ve heard the tale
told and re-told
we’ve spread nostalgic comfort
over the scene with music
foreign tongues
the bleating of a young lamb.

But there was pain, and a fear
that all may go awry
that here on a cold, careless night
amid the muck of straw
something might be lost
and the promise defiled.

So when through her tears
she heard his helpless cry
she reached to hold him close
wiped away the grime
and looked into her child’s eyes
a child’s eyes

then nursed him
and began their plans
on how to teach their son
(who had already known eternity)
snuggling now, happily,
on her welcoming breast.

                William J. Rewak, S.J.

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