gazing at My son

By Carl Winderl

---

on
that starry starry
silent night
in
His stone cold

manger pondering
just what Is It

God hath wrought

in that slightly more
than a pound
of flesh, or so

about to be
some day, soon

in a couple weeks
or so
to feel
the knife’s slice . . .

as if some
sacrificial lamb

He will sometime be.

but til then, on
this bleak midwinter
night in the silence of
His Mother’s smile

I see Him there

enwrapped as if
some Handful of clay
created “how” . . .

but for now, cradled
in a swaddling 

of Flesh. . . .

---

Carl Winderl holds a Ph.D. in Creative Writing from New York University and maintains a home in San Diego, California. He is the author of the poetry book, The Gospel According. . . to Mary ​(Finishing Line Press, 2021).  

Carl's other work on Foreshadow:
kneeling at the Manger (Poetry, December 2022)
at the anti-tower (Poetry, June 2022)
At Judas' funeral (Poetry, March 2022)
​A Writer Is Always at Work (Part 1 of 2) (Interview, May 2021)