Poetry

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�And the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary, for thou has found favour with God. And, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name JESUS.� Luke 1 : 30,31

.Mary�s Child

Oh child of my love deep within,
Flickering into beautiful form,
Perfect countenance and limb,
A miracle as yet, unborn.

I cannot see you, yet my love
Feels your spirit sleeping there,
Entrusted to me from above
Holy child I am to bear.

Jesus, Holy, Precious One,
The perfect sacrificial Lamb,
Who am I to bear this Son
Of God, the gift to fallen man?

Who am I, but poor and weak
So honored thus to nurture thee,
To bear the One whom worlds shall seek
And they the Father�s glory see!

They do not know there comes a Light
Unto their feet that I adore,
Enfolded here within my sight,
My heart, my spirit, evermore.

The dreamers dreamed, the prophets heard
And generations thus shall bow,
The Angel spoke the Father�s Word
But none shall love Thee more than now.

Lowly born you shall be King,
Blessed am I that Thou art mine,
Heavenly hosts shall rise and sing,
Thou art my all and all Divine.

Sleep softly here sweet child within,
I see a cross you cannot see,
As others lift you without sin,
Your blessed mother holdeth thee.

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