Christmas Sonnet
To Mary bearing down on love,
pain comes through saying: “Here am I.”
Bring down to earth the God above?
Plain sense and comfort question why.
Birth pangs are hers, but also his,
pushed out into a world like this,
where God with us must learn to cry.
Yet that first cry we hear as gift
more precious than the gold of kings,
and his last cry can bridge the rift
more surely than all angels’ wings,
for he is us, our pain is his,
and joy finds voice in cries like this.
“We are new born!” our being sings.
Barbara Messner December 2019
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Barb, poet priest 
This is such a perfect true reflection that I would love to use it as a guest post onChristmas Day. I don’t share your amazing work since you have this wonderful blog, but this is just so true I would love to do it.
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Thank you. Of course you may use it as a guest post. I’m glad.
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