Christal Ann Rice Cooper

Friday, December 22, 2017

A Poem on the Angel's View of Baby Jesus

Christal Ann Rice Cooper 

*Three Public Domain images photoshopped by Christal Ann Rice Cooper

**Poem by Christal Ann Rice Cooper 

The Angel’s Emancipation

I am His first creation
Without anger
Never does a smile seek my face.

I cannot imagine His eyes:
I speak and
I shield for Him.

This Creator who lets me chant
I abide by
His every word.

I and my 9,999 peers
Are the green spots on the sun
Our wings the cool moisture
For every fire red-hot drop.

His Son is astride a white stallion
And then He is gone
For nine months He
Whispers from the cradles of passion
Until He withdraws from the virginal flesh.

I see the Babe covered in His mother’s mucus
With my own eyes;

I hear Him suckle her breast
With my own ears;

I touch His skin, soft as rose petals,
With my own hands;

I sing praise to this Newborn
With my own lips and tongue.

Because all of this without the Creator’s dictation,
There is something that has never been-

My liberation to feel and express.

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