Poem: “Lost and Kept” by Rita A. Simmonds

The angel left
the Mystery swelled and swam and slept.
How blessed is the womb
the Word passes through.
His cells settle in even after burst.
Her heart and blood and brain
permeable terrain to nurse
the cry the sword the slain,
through family flight
and narrow street
to breathless on a tree.
How blessed
how blessed
how blessed is she.
All that’s lost she keeps.