Welcome, new day.
It is a December day like most December days. A month like any other month. Yet into this grey breaks a cloud hovering, a cloud glowing beneath. Hark. Halt. A piece of light, a shiver of sun glows the sky over the spruce. Maybe Christmas will come today.
And it does. I found him again this morning---no, he found me.
He crooked his finger and drew me close, close enough for tears close enough to steal breath. "You? You did this? You did this---for us?"
by Amit Majmudar
Inheart yourself, immensity. Immarrow,
Embone, enrib yourself. The wind won't borrow
A plane, nor water climb aboard a current,
But you be all we are, and all we aren't.
You rigged this whirligig, you make it run:
Stop juggling atoms and oppose your thumbs.
That's what we like, we like our rich to slum.
The rich, it may be, like it too. Enmeat
Yourself so we can rise onto our feet
And meet. For eyes, just take two suns and shrink them.
Make all your thoughts as small as you can think them.
Encrypt in flesh, enigma, what we can't
Quite English. We will almost understand.
If there are things for which we don't have clearance,
There's secrecy aplenty in appearance.
Face it, another word for skin is hide.
Show me the face that never lied.
And I see it. Or at least, the sun that comes from that face. It rises this morning, over the sea, the houses, the spruce. The audacity of sky finally blue, and we remember again-----
We have met.
He has shared all of these atoms from his whirling hands with us.
He is enribbed like us,
his eyes are bright as suns, like us,
He is altogether a bony bloody contraption as monstrous and wondrous as us . ….
Oh God! That you should BE a baby. For us. To come and meet us so.
And so comes the light.
The world cries, newborn.
I cry. New born.
Light into night. Light into flesh. Light upon light.
Dearest Friends, from my house, my heart to yours: May Christ be born in us today.