one more day ’til december
it’s nearly the last spoke
on the wheel of the year
out my window i can see
the desolation of the garden
where limp brown leaves
still cling to rusty tomato cages
sunday’s snow has all but melted
and here and there the grass
is defiantly green, but it knows
the whole world is dying
the baby came to visit us today
he smiled and cooed and fussed
and spat his milk down his
fresh little shirt then fussed again
before settling down to be rocked
and swaddled and soothed
his cheeks are getting rounder
his chubbying fingers dimple
and we praise him for how big he’s grown
once upon a time, wee manikin
there was another tiny boy like you
who was dearly loved
by his mama and daddy
was he a pretty baby
a round-cheeked hearty
curly-haired tearless wonder?
nobody told us that part
but he was born far from home
in somebody else’s barn
and his bed was a box
the animals ate from
yet he was not just another infant
but the very Son of God
one day he’ll be bigger still
crawling, then climbing
then running on his own
and his shapeless coos
will form themselves into words
he’ll be not mere baby, but boy
not merely boy, but man
discovering the wretchedness
and wonder of the world
but now it is one day ’til december
the plants slumber, the animals drowse
the daylight grows shorter
and the little borrowed baby sleeps
