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Poem: “In the Flesh”

In the Flesh

Tonight is the night of mystery,
Mystery of mysteries;
In the silence and dark, Light
Leaps down to earth;
In virgin womb, the Seed is sown.

Woman has become a temple,
Glory dwells within;
A creature carries the Creator,
Enfolding the Eternal;
Even angels pause and tremble.

The kernel of the Christ,
Is planted in an ark
Of skin and bone and blood:
Within the second Eve,
Stirs the final Adam.

The finger of the Spirit,
Makes a mother of a maiden;
The daughter of Israel holds
The hope of nations,
The promise of prophets.

Behold the marvel:
Like manna in the jar,
So too bread of life,
In the wondrous womb,
Soon to swell with Love.

Wine of charity,
Poured from heaven,
Fills the fleshly chalice;
The loaf of unity
Rises in the fleshly furnace.

O divine humility,
That the King should take
A peasant for His palace,
And in the little Nazarene,
Wisdom should recline.

The Spirit, unseen Flame,
Alights the bush
Which will not burn,
And in the virgin soil
Springs the sprig of Jesse.

Sing with heart, you heavens,
Sing with joy, you earth,
Sing with gladness, all creation:
For the Image of the Father
Has become the Son of Man:

God in the flesh,
God in the flesh,
Holy, holy, holy,
God in the flesh!

Philip Primeau