She laid her baby in a manger, undid her hair tie, and covered him with it, “So adorable,” turning to her husband who stood beside her with a hurricane lantern held above his head to illuminate the room.
“Yeah, so adorable,” he said. With his right hand, he kept a strand of hair that found its way to her face, in-place, whilst holding the lantern with his left. He closed the gap between their bodies, lowered his lips to hers, “I'm happy I lived this day,” he kissed her forehead, cheek, neck, then her shoulder.
Eyes closed, she felt bit heavy for her legs, and his hand working on its own, clasped her behind, supporting her weight. They were so on their own.
He caught her in an embrace, and later, hurriedly pulled out, shut the door, the window, hung the lantern on the wall, removed his cloth, and lowered it on the ground, “You need to sleep now, my Lady.” he helped her lie down, “Should I sing for you? I feel so alive that I could sing till dawn, nonstop.”
He's Joseph, a young renowned carpenter from David's decent, and she, his wife, Mary, ever virgin, mother of Jesus the Nazarene Christi.
No comments:
Post a Comment