Transpositions
All things that day seemed to be out of place;
And yet their new place seemed so fitting, too.
A star forsook the firmament’s vast view
And stopped above our roof to show its face.
The shepherds were no longer in the field,
But crowded, jostling, in our little home.
Their sheep forgotten, left to stray and roam,
Yet something apt in how they bowed and kneeled.
The donkey where so nearly I gave birth,
Munching, oblivious, in the corner stall
As if that journey, pregnant girl and all,
Was the most unsurprising thing on earth.
And in my arms Abundance lay in need,
The mighty One dependent on my aid,
Birthed by the mother He Himself had made,
God in a dirty nappy, crying for a feed.
rosbayeswriting 