CONCEPTION

How must it have felt for God
  plummeting through the fathomless universe
    created by Himself as the
      Morning Stars had sung for joy . . .
to seed quietly into the womb
  of a humble human with sandalled feet
    and fingers coarse with dropping water-buckets
      into Nazareth well?

It was such a small space.

He, Who had been used to limitless galaxies
  by Nature outside of, and unruled by, time
Now bound by the span of nine months;
  watching His little fingernails grow
    the miracles of His tiny eyelids form
and the buds of His limbs blossom into hands and feet
  destined to walk the roads, and heal the blind
    and call on the winds Redemption from the
      four corners of the earth.

His form took that of an infant man.

How must it have felt for the Creator
  now joined with created,
    pushing headfirst into a stable world?
The first cries He heard outside the womb
  were His: His Eyes
    bright as stars, discovered the miracle
      of human love; as He looked into the
        eyes of His mother and stepfather.

How must it have been for God ...

Catherine Nicolette Whittle