The night God took a deep breath
for all that must be saved,
even the stars outshone themselves
and hillsides gloried with angelic music,
the good, good, good news bouncing down
like boulders, shaking the foundations royally,
announcing the advent of a ruler born
for all who must be saved.
It was the bloody same way
we all arrive on the scene
through the mother of all labour and sweat,
the pain stretching out like tidal waves
for all that must be made flesh.
Love is now newborn, if not exactly
recognizable except to those who know
all must be saved from ourselves and evil
occupying armies whose tramping boots
are aimed exactly here by the bouncing baby news
that will throw even kings from their thrones.
Mary and Joseph and all of us are left
holding the baby,
Is this sensible God?
Jesus doesn’t answer.
He just suckles and sleeps
and wakes to a new day.