In the beginning, formless as if void,
The embryonic speck in darkness swum,
Who, unborn, made the unborn leap for joy:
And for a time, the eternal Word was dumb. 

Then the beginning of the screaming Word:
A plum-faced, squirming, naked newborn child.
The screams the same the world since Cain has heard
Now travel past the stable’s manure pile,

Echoing, in this beginning, through the street,
Where richer children run and play. They’ll cry
One day, for nails to pierce the precious feet
His mother kisses with a grateful sigh. 

For now he rests upon her ready breast.
To end, as to beginning, acquiesced.