The Midwife

I've had the feeling all this day,

my hands will hold a newborn child tonight.

For here in Bethlehem, the crowds pour in, and

there’s such life, such jostling and good cheer,

despite the hardships of our getting here

and wondering where we’d find to sleep.

But finally we’ve settled in a stable cave, where

all that’s left is one small space, a hollow,

far in back, where no one’s set up camp.

And now just look: Here come a man

and his young wife, so large with child

(a boy, by how she carries him)

and yet so easy on her feet she seems to glide

to that hollow surely saved for them.

I make my way to greet them, telling who I am

and what I do, and how my hands have told me that a child

will come into this world, this cave, my hands, tonight.

She looks into my eyes, says I am right. She’s known it too.

I know what to do, and as I’ve done  

so many times before, I ready her for what’s to come.

And soon the head emerges and I see the little face.

What startling beauty this one has!

And now in that slick rush

the shoulders and the arms emerge

and for just a moment—strangest sight!—

I seem to see the tiny arms stretched out

along the arms of something like a tree!

The vision passes as the torso and the legs emerge.

A boy it is! And now I hold him. For this moment

I’m the only one who’s ever held this child.

Welcome, welcome, little one! Your mother

waits to hold you—she who was your only world

until this shining night.

3/17/14 and 5/28/18

Who assisted at the birth of Jesus? Would Joseph have had to?  Surely the Holy Family was not alone in arriving too late to find “room in the inn,” not the only ones allowed to pitch camp in a stable, likely in a cave. This capable and mystic midwife is my best wish for the Holy Birth.