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something about stars and a baby

as i was leaving the office tonight

in the five o’clock gloaming

there shone forth a star

gently but crisp against winter’s blue

it’s chilly always now

morning’s breath freezes

the tip of my nose frosts over

and i wish your hand

could reach from the future

back into the past

and warm mine

i held

— learned to hold —

my nephew last night

through his squirmings

and raucous protestations

i swayed and shhhhed

wondering whether

mothers know that sort

of thing intuitively

but i watched his

beautiful face

his curious blueberry eyes

and thought back

centuries before now

when a black-eyed boy

was born in the dark

and the dirt

where his mother

cradled him with the cows

baby born to die

so i could live and love

the beauty of the blood

that saved me

from myself

did He know who

He was

as His new eyes sparkled

in the light

of the stars

He’d walked among?

fully formed in flesh

He who knit sinew to bone

become like us

to deliver us

as He lay washed and dried

tightly wrapped

newly birthed

did He look toward the future

where He’d conquer

the past

and lay cold

washed and dried

tightly wrapped

with myrrh and balm

in burial

awaiting new life?

why would God

put Himself at the mercy

of man?

to have mercy on man …

little baby, new and fragile

tiny stars, so far and cold

there the foolish find in wisdom

greater hands than these to hold

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