POEM - The Christmas Clementine

For Christmas, you gave me a clementine.
Not a full sized one, but rather a dwarf,
a vulnerable, lumpy, oblate fruit,
unnoticeable in my hand.

I marveled at the feel of it
then began to remove the peel, bit by bit
until the fruit was exposed flesh as tender as that Christmas Baby
shivering, naked in the Bethlehem evening.

I had the urge to wrap it tight
like a flower bud,
to place it in a manger
to keep it warm by my breath
while I absorbed its sweet orange whisper scent
And dreamed of April,
When the juices of living things flow again.

You are a clementine wrapped and small,
both the gift given by the magi on that first Christmas,
and the Baby Jesus wrapped up into one swaddled
piece of fruit,
one great Love, orange and surprising –
this Clementine that offers the forgiveness
which brings the winter to its knees.