Miriam wept. as she gave birth to her first born son in the great room of her parents windowless house because there was no space for her in their guest room.
Miriam wept amidst the smell of animals lulling in the stables, the stench of blood and life, pouring from her womb in circles of pain, joy and the fear of death.
Miriam wept as she swaddled him in the bands of linen the midwife gifted her, now their only rich thing, and wept again in the soothing waters of the Mikvah
Miriam wept remembering the small voice that had once whispered inside her with a thousand hallelujahs and the acclaim of a heaven of angels proclaiming him the redeemer.
Miriam wept unaware of the indifferent shepherds tending their flock in the sweltering night, watching the convergence of Jupiter and Venus blessing the heavens all the way to Persia.
And knowing that Miriam treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart- Jesus wept- openly on the cross in full view of her.
This poem is a more realistic and historically accurate version of what the nativity story was really like. As such it diverges substantially from the accounts of Luke and Mark found in the New Testament.