In the genesis of life’s narrative,
where the celestial meets the visceral,
there lies an unspoken truth,
beyond the idyllic facades.
Birth isn’t a pristine sonnet
written in ethereal whispers;
it’s the crescendo of blood, fear,
and the sheer strength of existence.
Mary, bearer of divinity,
felt God’s squirm, the restless nights,
embracing naked vulnerability,
where brokenness met sanctity.
In this nativity reimagined,
holiness sheds its pristine veil,
unveiling divinity’s embrace
of grief, sorrows, and primal reality.
Faith isn’t a polished portrait
of unblemished euphoria;
it’s the tapestry woven with
joy, anguish, longing, and hope.
Life, a grand symphony,
plays the notes of struggle and beauty,
where the sacred dances
with the rawness of existence.
Mary’s story echoes our own,
where the earthly and divine converge,
in a narrative rich with
sorrow, joy, and profound grace.
