by Patrice M. Wilson

No room at the inn—
no place to sleep, to give 
birth to a sun that will light
this dark site, to plant a conception,
a seed sown by Someone
Holy, wholesome, whole.

I will end up in a cozy stable,
large warm-blooded animals—
cow, donkey, ox—
breathing their gentle breath
upon me for succor in the cold.

I will witness, because
of no room, the glint
of a new star, an opening
in the heavens. I will find
a space where breaths mingle
and my emptiness
will shine.

---

Born Catholic in Newark NJ, raised in Catholic schools, Patrice M. Wilson has a PhD in English from the University of Hawaii at Manoa, having earned her MA there and her BA at the University of Maryland, College Park. She was editor of the very fine Hawaii Pacific Review for 16 years while teaching at Hawaii Pacific University. She has three chapbooks of poetry with Finishing Line Press, and one full-length poetry collection with Christian publisher eLectio Publishing. Dr. Wilson recently spent five years in the cloistered Carmelite monastery in Kaneohe, HI. She is now a retired professor living in Mililani, Oahu, HI.