The birthing stool splinters
Beneath the weight of her belly
Lo! A Rose en Wynter shivers
And from Her thorny hips
A Light crowns
A Light naked
Not yet clothed en glory
Not yet Emmanu-el
Lo! A Rose en Wynter opens
And from Her thorny hips
A Light cries aloud
And shatters the Nite’s hoary aire
© LogosVox 2012
Lupa Press 