Mother and Child

We are often surprised when we catch sight of ourselves.
He was that evening, he sitting at my side asking me to tell
how he came to be made flesh. The luxury of my privacy
was over; he was almost twelve, he needed to know.
As I told all I knew I could sense my eyes were mirrors reflecting
him back to himself causing an expression on his face of a
recalled nightmare, his being flayed of divinity to become
like us. Until that moment I’d not witnessed the depths of his
emptying, his exile. He stood to turn away from me, me Mary.
So my dreams are true then?
I answered as any mother would: I am privileged to call
you my son, and if asked I would do it all over again.
You know I have to find my way back.
I caught my breath at his wild upsurge, fearing he might then
rush away from me as the stars do. But he returned to my side.
Yes, I did know, yet in that moment it felt such a mysterious waste.
 
 
 

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3 Comments

  1. Mark Grace on December 20, 2012 at 2:41 pm

    Thanks, John. Beautiful meditation.

  2. Peg Richards on December 21, 2012 at 2:26 pm

    John, all I can say is: Wow and Thanks!

  3. pastordt on December 27, 2012 at 8:06 am

    Lovely, lovely. I’m getting caught up after an intense few days and am grateful to find this just as I head off to sleep.

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