Last week I posted a poem about Mary. Joseph often does not get enough credit in this story. What was he going through? What was he thinking about? Again, I am struck by another poem of Tania Runyan who has carefully thought through his humanity.
May this poem make you revisit the Christmas story from Joseph's perspective.
Joseph at the Nativity
Of any birth, I thought this
would be a clean one.
like pulling white linen from a loom.
But when I return to the cave,
Mary throws her cloak
over the blood straw and cries.
I know she wants me to leave.
There He lies, stomach rising
and falling, a shriveled pod
that does nothing but stare
at the edge of the feeding trough
with dark, unsteady eyes.
Is He God enough
to know that I am poor.
that we had no time
for a midwife, that swine
ate from his bed this morning?
If the angel was right, he knows.
He knows that Mary's swell
embarrassed me, that I was jealous
of her secret skyward smiles,
that now I want to run into these hills
and never come back.
Peace, peace, I've heard in my dreams.
This child will make you right.
But I can only stand here,
not a husband, not a father,
my hands hanging dumbly
at my sides. Do I touch him,
this child who is mine
and not mine? Do I enter
the kingdom of blood and stars?
- Tania Runyan