Within the temple's sunlit court
a prophet stumbles forward,
his bones stiff with age.
His gnarled hands reach out,
the fingers trembling.
Mary hugs her child closer.
Her lips whisper a petition.
She's come to Jerusalem
to offer him back to God.
Her arms open. The prophet
takes the child and lifts him up.
The baby's heart beats faster.
Here am I, come to do thy will.
No comments:
Post a Comment