From Mary

Morning

When I woke
the birds were singing

foretaste of what was to be

In my tears ( again)
I could barely see to lift the spices
and the cloths to wash Him

Walking there
I heard distant laughing

In my bitterness I wondered at how quickly they’d forgotten

But there was no stopping those birds from singing

They kept on
until joined with gardener’s words
and angel songs
there was a mighty symphony when I heard His voice call my name

Mary

I touched Him
and heard Him

my Lord and My God

Risen

 

( I wrote this poem years ago.  Happy Easter!)

2 thoughts on “From Mary

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