Birthing Life Poem by Rightly Considered

Birthing Life

Rating: 5.0

Exhausted from the pains of sin
Air, with effort, and precious,
Methodically taken in
Along the final road, they begin

The water and blood have been shed
A ring of fire at the head,
like a crown of thorns pressing down
Great mercy here is found:
The one who feels the fiery thorn
Is not the one being born

How is it, that they
With nothing left to give
Are now at the point
For which they’ve wholly lived?

My eyes are the way,
The only method by which I can say
“I’m sorry, but glad,
I’m eager, and sad”
This pain I know I have caused
The justice demanded of spiritual laws

With their eyes they wipe it away,
No sadness will they let stay,
…upon my face,
For with weak smiles, they say
“I love you.”

No worth have I brought
To this or the ancient scene
Only riches have I sought
But from myself they did wean
How can it be that I,
I merely watch and stand by
The only comfort I can give:
They know by this act that I live

And now time of all times
Birth of eternal life
To set free the soul
The forming of the Golden bowl
This is Christ and the Cross
This is Mother in Labor
This is the clearing of dross
This is the peak of Favor
The bosom to which we cling
Our Father of Mothers, King!

And now his song
It rings forever on
With a thousand mother choir
Each day echoing his verse
With chin bent down to chest
And to life, giving birth,
Out of the wound,
Comes holy mirth,
Then sounds the chorus of relief:
“It is finished.”

Monday, May 12, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: motherhood
Written just before Mother's Day 2014. A reflection of a sinner before Christ on the Cross, AND, a husband with his wife in Labor.
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