The Birth
by Phoebe Anthus
Oh Root of David
deadlocked by a woman and entombed
from time unknown life’s essence all astir,
half torn from slumber
budding into shape our hand may handle
touch the things unseen
by men, oh mercy and oh mystery!
The holy one erodes the boundaries,
untethers language older than our lungs
the colors of unhurried Father’s strength
rooted in a mother’s breathless womb.
Break forth oh seed of heaven’s remembering!
On mead and moorland breathe through hours of dawn,
when auburn edge of russet red pierce straining waters,
tenderly arrange their skirts unbar the door
and open on the world.
We stretch our arms we finger for the light,
as you press hard against the blue black bond.
We feel the current of the word constrict,
as birth pains clench your fragile body round.
Man of mercy and of mystery,
come forward, downward, to the waiting world.
Oh Root, by rings of the weathered spine,
who counts the times slow passing by,
what is man that You, oh Mystery,
are mercifully mindful, bending long, bending low,
Father’s face untethered amongst men!
Oh sons of stars break forth in singing,
greet your transposed king!
Phoebe Anthus is a stubborn artist with her head not so far into the clouds that she cannot notice the solid, sensible things as well.
Photography by Kenneth Godoy