The with-woman brought more swaddling,
thought I’d see sunrise before my firstborn
but he broke the warm swell of my waters,
surged towards midnight on a golden tide.
I wept for joy as his cries chimed the hour,
disturbed the humble creatures whose room
we shared. They brayed,mooed: the music
of angels Joseph whispered and I laughed
then heard it too, chorusing from the hills.