I was reminded this morning of this poem, published several years ago in Theology Today, a portion of which I posted over at The Year D Project a while back when I ran across it on the web. But here is the whole thing in full, as it appears in The Just, Quiet Wind.
Matthew 2:1-12
The
rustling of robes stirs the otherwise steady
rhythm
of rustic rumination sends tiny
dust
clouds pluming
The
girl’s hand subtly fans the fouled air from
her
infant’s face gracefully disguising the gesture
with her
reach to disclose him
The
visitors beam with eyes full of starfirelight
taking
the passive child and passing him lightly
with
expert elder hands of night
She
is weary but welcoming of these trusty travelers
for
she knows that they have borne their burdens
for a
long time from a long way
Their
speech is hushed as they kneel slowly one by one
producing
small treasures from inside each chest
but
none to match the miracle at her breast nursing
beneath
the blue gown of winter ...
New
Kensington, PA; October 4, 1997 —
Somewhere along the way, I set this piece to music as well, but again, with no sung melody, just speech. Both poem and music date from the same period as the other "windy" material in question. I'm sure a demo exists, but clearly it didn't quite make the cut when it came to selecting material for the CD.