Poem: My Firstborn Can You Tell Me More?

December 9, 2017

Painting by Lisa Guinther

Poem: My Firstborn Can You Tell Me More?

                                                 
This frosty morn of your first dawn.
The force of birth unknown to me.
Crushing torrents gripped my flesh
Pouring water and red blood spilling,
I expelled you on the strawy floor.  
Are you my Lord or a lesser soul?
 
Is there more that I should notice?
Joseph tore the silvery cord.
He had delivered lambs before.
You savor breath as earthly being.
No more my body nor part of me.
I pray the world is kind my son.
What more is it we should know?
 
Your warm mouth seeks my sorefull breast,
You pawed for milk and found the source.
I’ve seen my sisters nursing theirs.
Your instinct is sure, no need to learn.
This baby’s thirst appears quite earthly.
Will these lips speak mighty oracles? 
Do I nourish the mouth of God?
 
I adore you as a normal child.
Your perfect body smooth and rounded.
Praise God although our family is poor.
Is this fragile finger formed,
The same as any mortal’s?
Why do I look for something more?
Is this the hand of God I kiss?
 
Is there more you wish to show me?
Your form and face seem ordinary.
Eyes and forehead look like mine,
Your curly crown resembles Joseph’s.
Surely not so! I’ll tell you soon more.
Your seed was not sown by human control.
You are from a source most glorious.

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