The streets are quiet now. The lights are dim

Inside the houses that we passed to find

This stable at the back of Bethlehem.

My body is exhausted, but my mind

Runs back to what the man in white declared –

Yes; Gabriel – when instantly I knew

My girlhood gone, and wholly unprepared

To hear his words: A Life within me grew.

And here He is. Young Yahweh sleeping warm

Within the corner of my trembling arm.

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“O favored one.” What favor could I find

That God should overshadow, as He said?

My family small, no riches, unrefined.

My name: Naomi, in my family’s thread

Said, “Call me Bitter.” So indeed might I.

I felt the eyes when we came in this town;

They’re all the same: The glance, the anguished cry

My heart makes with their knowing smiles, crushed down.

Is this the way our great Messiah shows

His true salvation for the ones He chose?

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He stirs, and murmurs in His sleep. How swift

My heart arises with a mother’s love!

I stroke His tiny head. So pure a gift,

For all my doubts, is given from above.

I hear a rustle from outside the door.

Good Joseph rises; strange dark faces beam

With costly presents on the dusty floor.

The room is burst with glory. And it seems

That in this humble place of bitter joy

I magnify the Lord in this small Boy.

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Jeremy Vogan, Advent 2022

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Artwork Credit: “Sistine Madonna” by Raphael, 1513