Another Advent

The child filled  her up,

winding its fingers round her heart.

She could feel it moving

in her center,

a seedling,

sending roots through her flesh.

It was laughing at the edges of her mind,

growing,

creating light in the dark of her.

The milk was stirring in her breasts.

Sometimes, shaking her with sickness,

it brought tears without reason.

She wondered about the blessing,

had wished and prayed for it,

opened herself to the seed,

growing to bursting in her belly.