An offering from my husband, Curt, the occasional poet.
Conception’s seed
Adam’s son
Womb’s darkness
Sin’s tomb
Unconscious growth
Blind existence
Sleepful swimming
Dead-man walking
Nine-month gestation
Thirty-year enslavement
Stressed contractions
Offensive preaching
Pushed and squeezed
Drawn and dragged
Useless resistance
Excuses exhausted
Optionless choice
Broken will
Distant voices
Divine call
Squinting brightness
Glorious light
Crying gasp
Holy Breath
Severed cord
Bondage broken
Washed and wrapped
Baptized and robed
Clean and safe
Forgiven and kept
Daddy’s arm-cradle
Father’s mercy
Mommy’s milk
Mother Church
Family likeness
Kingdom membership
A child is born
A son is reborn
…of water and the Spirit
A Living Pencil 
I especially like the lines, “Stressed contractions, offensive preaching,” that there are two meanings to it. So truthful and straightforward.
How moving!I read it through quickly and then back again more slowly… to savor.What a gem.
It reminded me somewhat of Luci Shaw’s poem entitled *Labor*.Curt’s layout is crucial to the meaning. Love.it!
Powerful!
Beautiful!
Powerful and full of truths!
That is amazing, wow! I need to write it down.
it doesn’t happen often, but it did here tonight at 10.42 … reading this, honestly, my breath stopped. these words literally took my breath away.thank you seems so small. both for Curt, and for the One deserving of such praise.