the baby doesn’t look
like anyone we know
we gather ’round him
peering and scrutinizing
trying to find family resemblances
in this new little face —
his eyes don’t look
like his mama’s
his ears look nothing
like his papa’s
and as for his smile …
well, we conclude
he must look like himself
(and, of course, he does)
the baby should’ve looked
like someone they knew
or at least recognized
in that tiny town full
of related faces —
surely his black eyes
filled with starlight
should look like his ema‘s
or his long-fingered hands
should look like his abba‘s …
here in sabba david’s home should not
this sprout of jesse look like his abba?
(oh, but He does)
