Tuesday, December 23, 2014

Christmas 2014

The terrible tragedy in George Square yesterday makes us hold each other more dearly. This is a short poem I wrote about my son's Nativity, a week ago.

Primary Two Nativity  

When my son needs encouraged again
to go to school, I mention the play.
He says he is tired of singing
and tired of dinging 

but when I see the row
of tea-toweled shepherds
holding triangles high
I scan for him, lost without his blonde hair 

and in the micro seconds it takes
to recognise his face (there!)
my throat catches and I am falling again,
comet-like, whooshing with love
and he might as well be Jesus,
born anew to me each day.