Bound by Mystery – a poem by the late Lyman Randall
A burdened couple plodding
toward a distant town,
not their choice but law
requiring registration
at his place of birth
She was expecting soon,
and he with hidden fears
about his love for her
and the father of her child.
He knew it wasn’t his …
and then to find no place
to rest her as her labor grew.
Desperation led them
to the closest roof, an inn
already full. They went out back.
She tried to tell him what to do
to help her birth her child;
but he held back, afraid.
His carpentry had not prepared
him for this kind of work.
They labored long, she with pain
and he with his own suffering,
until the miracle occurred …
a birth.
A healthy boy … so much
like any other, yet so different.
He asked himself: Would they
grow closer now she had her son?
What if her need of him was done?
And what was he prepared to say to others’ questions …
and his own?
She handed him the boy.
He was at first afraid to take
him in his arms … and then
into his life … but both he did
with Mary’s
calm encouragement.
He slowly came to love them both,
the three of them becoming one
a family made into a whole by God.
His gratitude for blessings grew
into abundance recognized.
Who was this child now grown,
who worked with him as carpenters?
He made no claim of privilege,
but yet he was a mystery
as common as both life and love.
Both died eventually,
the one still questioning …
the other with clear certainty
about who was the father
and the son of both of them.
Lyman Randall
November 2008
