Mary’s long white arms
lift the baby high above her head.
He is seated in her palms, a pose
precarious—his head droops,
an eerie portent of the cross.
Through the open doorway
shepherds mosey closer
with their crooks. The mule
slobbers grain from the trough.
Blue shadows ring Joseph’s eyes.
Light sleeper. Keeper of dreams:
the intense maternal joy,
the pivotal birth. Mary’s
chin set, triumphant, determined
as the star. See how it owns
the sky. On the infant’s face
a benevolence rewarding her Fiat.
Everything quietly breathing
in and out. Unseen, the tree.
Unseen, the bird in the leaves
singing like an angel.
—Elisabeth Murawski
How to Become a Low-Tech Family
Is there a life beyond the screen? In 2010, Nicholas Carr’s The Shallows described what the internet…
Why Are Divorce Memoirs Trending?
Divorce rates may be down in the U.S. from their all-time high in the 1980s (although so…
Children Are Gifts, Not Products
In late September, researchers at Oregon Health & Science University announced a breakthrough that could reshape the…