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Fresh

The scent of a baby

Clings to a sweater,

A shoulder,

Arms, lucky enough to have held

His sweetly swaddled body,

If only for a while.


And there is

a freshness found

There,

In the fragrant folds

Of newborn skin

Fresh,

 Like the smell

of clouds

Ready to burst with

Tiny

drops

of

 enormous life.


The sweat of heaven

Pours forth from my

God-baby’s skin

And all I can think -

Or deeply remember-

Is that Jesus came

In this way

And in this skin

That we might know

Freshness once more.


I cannot help but cling to a scent like that.

 

 Christmas 2009

Comments

  1. Maggi Van DornDecember 22, 2009 at 8:48 PM

    Maggi what a beautiful poem. Logan is so lucky to have you. xo

    ReplyDelete

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