An early Christmas poem

Young universe,

You almost blush
like a wet baby.

Is eternity as a translucent stream of smoke?
As a perfume?
As a perhaps?

In squirming wild dark, a blaze.

The naked child bleeds from woman,
Father kisses bellowing son,
Color slow-seeps into sky,

And into red morning,
the God heart beats time.

  • Laura

    Beautiful. absolutely beautiful.

    • brynna

      YOU are beautiful. I can always count on you for encouragement. :) Thank you.

  • Karen

    Oh, the mystery . . .
    You’ve done a masterful job of painting the incarnation in words, dear girl.

  • Jayjoe

    Chills. I got chills. You made truth an artful and sensory experience rather than simply words.

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