
Would her mourning ever end?
Grieving her lost son
She’d held his lifeless body
Tears mingling with his blood.
Would she now live with kin?
For other sons she had none
He had been her greatest joy
His provision her foremost job.
She looked to the women and men
Who followed her beloved one
As he taught in parables
The virtues leading to paradise.
God alone her heart would mend
Filling it with tasks undone
Busying her hands with love
In honoring his blessed life.
And so she did. Before her sorrowing nights, she it was who prepared that upper room and told the men to wait beside the donkey and foal. Now she would busy herself in service to his friends and ponder all these things in her heart. Hoping beyond hope for events yet to be. Believing everything he said.
copyright C.E.Donaldson 2005

No comments:
Post a Comment