by Megan McDermott

 

She is having contractions,
and the Kingdom of Heaven
is splitting apart her legs.

New worlds hang heavy
in a body, kick with brutal,
pointed feet. One day

redemption might feel light,
poured over the whole earth,
but its gestation first requires

waddling through wheat fields;
its release – panting. Disciples
hang back now, finally broken.

So many miracles more easily
conceived than the mess
of Mother and Messiah.


MEGAN MCDERMOTT is an ordained Episcopal minister serving a church in Massachusetts. She recently graduated from Yale Divinity School, where she also studied with the Yale Institute of Sacred Music, an interdisciplinary program dedicated to religion and the arts. Her poetry has been published in The Windhover, Rock & Sling, The Cresset, Saint Katherine Review, Amethyst Review, and Episcopal Café.


Photo: “Sunset Wheat Field” by Jonathan Gross