A REFLECTION ON MARY AND PSALM 23

The Lord held out his hand, and together
We wept into
The Shadow of Death, a space dense and dark
Unknown
But to those who sorrow
Within.

Surely,
(His body red with blood),
She cradled him.

What mother wouldn't touch the jagged wounds,
Wipe
The pale sweat from his face,
Remove
The crown of thorns?

Words beyond words.
Did she see in him the resurrection
Of time?