Caesar Augustus decreed thatall the world should be taxed.
God decreed the same differently.
Mary’s firstborn would burden
every heart with subjection, with
the killing happiness of letting go.
She saw it the second they opened,
eyes hardened to the black of winter ice,
his stare chilling enough to melt.
He was born to cherish us. This he
would accomplish even if it killed him.
and then this one...
In the beginning was the word, scattered everywhere.
Then the word was assembled with experience, colored
with the red of blood and the black of eyes, and the word
became a sentence and the story took shape.
The question posed to the magi was not what gifts do you bring?
but good or bad, either way, can you bear the story?
It is a question best borne with song.
That is why the angels sang, and so must we.
can you bear the story... can any of us?