Incarnation

Darkness, cold, the only light
The distant stars, the sad world
Lies waiting, holding its breath,
Stillness spilling into every heart
Emptiness aching, a pain so intense
Hearts have given up waiting,
But a tiny spark alights
At the edge of an inconsequential
Village, a cave lined with straw,
The only heat the animals
Huddled together, heads
Down, the only sound,
A baby crying love.

--Bill Stifler, © 2019

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