These Arms

A poem for Christmas, or maybe Easter...

At first glance,
Those arms outstretched
Seem to be pushing away.
Arms that distance,
Arms that reject
Arms that aren’t open to me.
And yet,
When I look more,
These arms restore.
These arms draw close.
These arms have held and been held.
These arms, once small, clung straw
and held a mother’s breast.
These arms, made flesh,
Which once wove worlds together,
Are now outstretched
A cruciform embrace eternally
Invading our continuum
Cascading grace into every place where darkness threatens.
These arms hold me interminably
In the eternal grip of a loving God
Who came to us and holds us close.