"Christmas Day": Twelve Poems and A Story for Christmas

MaryMary was a young girl when she gave birth to a child in a strange place. She was not surrounded by women and midwives and probably went through her entire pregnancy with only Joseph by her side. How many days did she spend walking through fields, doing her chores in silence, and thinking about the child who was kicking and stretching inside her? For Jesus, like all other babies, demanded the full attention of his parents who did not have the traditional support systems.


Again, the steadying presence of Joseph brought her through childbirth. But once the child was born, Mary’s pride surfaces and she will contend with God, if necessary (as any mother would), for the life of her son.


Christmas Day



It had been a hard nine months—her frail
body struggling to keep God alive inside her—
the morning sickness and the craving
for wheat germ and honey—she’d lost
her appetite for meat, and would only eat
the ripest fruit. When she tried to sleep,
on some nights, he would sit on her bladder,
then shift suddenly, and she’d wait
in the darkness until he’d settle down
to the pressure of her hands on her belly.
And when the time came, he wanted
to come out feet first, but Joseph turned him
around and guided him into the light.
She held Joseph’s hands, then lifted the child
to her breast and suckled him with the milk
made from her blood. For until he was ready
to do God’s work, he was her son.


***
I will be taking a break from the blog until January 8, 2007, so that I can spend the holidays with family and friends, get ready for a new semester/year, and enjoy some rest/recreation time.

Give thanks to all who have commented/supported the blog by spreading the word, bought books for themselves or as gifts for others, and those hardy souls who continue to write blogs, stories, novels, poems--who inspire all of us--have a Merry Christmas and all the best for the New Year!

One Love,
Geoffrey
***
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Comments

FSJL said…
as winter slowly brings us to our knees
as metaphor at least if not in actual fact
we do not think of all the things we lacked
long years ago back in the west indies
our minds roam freely to those sunlit seas
with figueroa we look for the flower tacked
to the lush tree and as we're daily packed
in metro train forgetting as in we squeeze
the harder times we recall only the ease
of walking on those warm december days
and not the hardships nor the myriad pains
of having the hardest of masters to please
nor of the sun's harsh and blistering rays
we think only of the light and the warm rains
Rethabile said…
Belated merry Christmas (did have a thought for you and the ones you love) and a great 2007. The inspiring art is very much appreciated.
As I wish for you and all the ones you love, Rethabile.

Khotso
Professor Zero said…
Happy New Year!!!
Happy New Year to you too, Professor Zero!

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