Category Archives: Christmas

Christmas Morning

 

Foot_fingers_baby_infantbaby
Christmas Morning

Mary counts the toes
she counts the fingers
not a one is missing
two eyes, a nose

the feeling of love
of wonder, grows
as she explores
the soft, wriggling newborn
wrapped in her arms

She is alone this morn
just the two: mother and son
warm amidst the blankets,
cushioned by the straw in the barn.
The shepherds and villagers are gone.
Joseph off to find
the morning repast.

She now snuggles at last
into the love of God
humming her lullabies of praise
She raises Him, this little one
close to her heart.
Nourished in spirit and soul
she nourishes Him with her very self.

c. 2016 Darlene Moore Berg

 

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Where it All Began

Where it All Began
cropped-img_3774.jpg

Time to come back to the stable
stroll through the stalls
brush the mane from a donkey’s eyes
scratch the head of a calf
pick up a kid, a lamb
cuddle in their soft fur

and through an open door pause
kneel before the newest occupant
an infant bedded in straw.
A young woman caresses his cheek
wets his face with her tears of joy

it is crowded here
but quiet, reverent
something new, intangible
a fragrant incense of hope
arises in each human heart
breathe in the presence of God

c.Darlene Moore Berg 2015

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Hands

An infant, newborn

Fits between two palms

 

Imagine the immensity,

The entirety of God’s love

Cradled within fragile

Human hands.

 

His gaze locks with yours,

A focus, fixed, intense

Searching

 

Blink your eyes

And the Man, the Son of God

Before you stands

And now

He holds you within

His hands

c. Darlene Moore Berg 2015

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Mary’s Baby

 
Mary’s baby Jesus, she
held upon her knee.
The son of God, an infant boy
she tickled to his glee.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
held up to her face.
The son of God, her little one
she danced around their place.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
picked up when he fell.
The son of God, a toddler she
brushed off, kissed him well.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
looked around to find.
The son of God, a growing child
she couldn’t believe the time.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
hugged good-bye and waved.
The son of God, a man full-grown
she watched him walk away.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
saw him crucified.
The son of God, the son of Man
she touched his bleeding side.

Mary’s baby Jesus, she
mourned when he had died.
The son of God, the Savior Lord
she saw him glorified.

Mary’s baby Jesus, please
answer when he calls
The son of God, the Prince of Peace
give Him your heart, your all.

c. Darlene Moore Berg

this is an older poem of mine but fitting for this season

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Mother and Child

Madonnas and Child
after a painting Mother and Child by Maurice Sterne 1926

“He was suckled at his mother’s breast.”
A classic image of maternal love,
the Madonna and child—-
visible in a thousand different faces,
a hundred various shades of skin tone,
ivory white to darkest brown.

Tranquility: the breast feeding hormone,
prolactin, releases its calming effect.
And a quiet peace steals a moment free from anxiety,
lines smooth on a weary woman’s face,
a racing heart slows to the rhythm of an infant nursing,
clutched protectively to a bare breast.

Mother to the world,
a transcendent experience, out-of-time,
the nurtured, nurturing child of God’s design
feeds on warm, sweet milk;
he tastes, digests his mother’s muted fear.
Her terror packs away in bundles slung
over an ass’s back and tied with sturdy cords.

A warning thunders in the distance,
the sound of hooves, the rumble of chariots..
Tanks roll across the horizon, the vibrations of artillery
detonate in the next village.
The soldiers come, and come once more…
and safety is always a thousand mile flight
across the shifting sands…
the landscape of another war.

c. Darlene Moore Berg

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The Perfect Christmas Poem…

star lightThe Perfect Christmas Poem—

Writes itself
whispers words to the pen
until the ink flows
onto the white, blank page.

Something about the first breath of God
in dependent human form.
Wordless, the Word cries.
Love, whimpers to be fed.

A song of Peace lifts into the hills
A stable fills with shuffling feet
and Hope meets men
with all their tears and fears.

Stars in the night,
Magi bearing gifts from foreign lnads
receive a gift from God’s own Hand.
The birth, the Life—

It’s all ours: to become
one with His Son
a child of God Almighty.
We cross the threshold of his Kingdom
kneel before his humble throne.

c. Darlene Moore Berg

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Adoption: A new Birth

Adoption (A New Birth)

Somewhere across town, or the universe
an angel laughs, points, nudges his neighbor,
Christ is born.
Another heart by divine intercourse
cracks open, locks torn—
finds the bundle of Love left
parked upon the heart’s threshold;
receives Him whole, rocks in absolute wonder,
cradling heaven’s delight.
Stars wink back and forth.
A horn sounds, songs erupt.
Tears of joy splatter un-checked
wet the Boy, God’s Son
nestled snug within His new found home.
His hand visible, waving, tells all,
come, gather round, meet the newest
member of the holy family.

Darlene Moore Berg

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