Upon the straw and the dirt
from which we came
and which we will end
amidst blood and travail
a cleansing birth
no hero, no knight, but a baby
born not of gods, but man
the great receipt of grace
born to them, without question
Above them a star
a crowned knot of fire
brighter than flame of branch
men bringing their gifts
restored by the sight
despite their sins, he smiles
Only a baby, but so aware
of the souls fragility
of all that they've done and been
the bitter tastelessness
of the night's fruit
the worth of the soul's prayer
Upon the straw and the dirt,
from which we came
and which we will end
a dove bears witness
to bended, humble knee.
on the ground of their beseeching
a baby bears witness
to a hearts revealing
as the fire and dove are one
- Brigid
