Questions for the Hay: An Advent Poem
QUESTIONS FOR THE HAY

What did it feel like to be a resting place for Jesus?

To follow Mary’s womb

as the second member of Creation

that hosted the Lord of hosts,

held his small, brown frame

freshly covered in blood, vernix, and lanugo?



Was his head disproportionately big-

as if the Mind of God were too vast

to be contained by human form

and would flop over if not supported by your

soft, foraged blooms?

Or was it perfectly proportioned-

round and bright,

like a halo in the dark night?

What did his cries sound like?

Were they loud and sharp,

high-pitched expulsions echoing through time and space

to emphatically announce God’s arrival on earth?

Or were they soft and low,

rolling in harmony with the bellowing cows

and bleating lambs-

the fist worshippers to greet our King?



What filled the atmosphere around you

at the event of his birth?

Was the air electric,

charged with the delight of miracle,

the energy of heaven,

the fulfillment of promise?

Or was everything quiet and reverent,

slowed and rendered speechless

by the tiny, infant King?



Was it both? And all? And so much more?



What was it like to know that your existence

was enough-

to realize that your presence was all that was needed

to welcome the Divine?
['Erina Kim-Eubanks']
['Creation', 'Poetry', 'Christmas', 'Advent', 'Christianity']