Mary - A Poem

Dark braids

Dangling

Down

Your

Back,

Close to

Patches sewn on

Your garment for

More use.


Dough lining

Your fingers

While the

Bread of Life

Grows within.

Thoughts about dinner

And checking on sheep,

When the visitor came

With astonishing news.


"A baby for me,

From God did you say?

I'm not ready to be

A mother.

Let

Me

Think."


"God is with you,"

The angel said.


"All is well.

Let it be.

I'll finish the bread,

Gather figs for dinner,

Check on the sheep

In the pasture,

And visit Joseph in

His shop.

Oh my!"