Thursday, December 12, 2013


He was born
into the great silence -
nearly five hundred
years without a prophet,
but Simeon heard

the old voices.
Go to the temple,
they told him,
and the people laughed.
All but Anna, who
clasped her bony hand
around his wrist
when he passed by:
Today, she whispered.

Surely not them.
The road-weary carpenter
and his girlish bride,
tattered bundle clutched

tight to her chest.

His feet moved unbidden,
hands took the warm passel
of rags and flesh
from the unsuspecting mother.
Holding the Child,

he heard himself say
the words
to all the songs
the silence could hold no more.

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