Mary,     holding your baby; did you see a shadow fall     on the stable wall? When the shepherds came to pray,     what had they heard the angels say? Did the wise men dare to tell you all they knew? Mary,     who are you? Frightened child bride,     towed by an angry Joseph     through the swirl of history,     shouting prophets     thundering over your huddled form... Untouched maiden     meekly kneeling     to the Master of the Universe,     raising one cuckoo     and a flock of sparrows,     never losing serenity     or innocence... Conniving seductress     foisting her bastard off on God,     hoaxing Joseph to raise it,     muddling the boy into visions,     all to mask your own guilt... Daughter of the prophets     poised in ancient wisdom,     cuddling the sweetest infant     to the tenderest breast,     nursing him to sacrifice and glory... Mary,     who are you? Mary,     did you ever fear? Joseph,     cuckold of God -     did he take it out on you? Or was he so kind and noble     you felt unworthy,     distrusting any moment     of anger     or any human weakness? Your child-man     who never cried at night,     or begged for toys     then broke them,     who never raided the cookie jar,     or rubbed dirt in his best friend's hair -     did you know how weird he was,     before you raised the other boys? Did you ever lie awake     with some deep grief; did he come hold your hand,     wisdom far too ancient in his eyes? When you found him     lecturing the scholars, did you see a cross-shaped shadow     on his path? Did you fear for him, Mary? Did you fear Him? Mary,     I am afraid. To fall,     to fail,       to feel... I am afraid of pain and of the long slow numbing dark     without pain... Mary,     I do not know     who I am. With no home and no money     am I helpless,     hopeless,     sick and pitiful? Am I angry,     robbed and ruined     by the System,     Them,     the Others,     Mother,     Men? Am I stupid,     wrong,     a wicked woman,     reaping the returns     of evil ways? Am I the player,     one strike down     but grinning,     setting my feet     to jump back in the game? Mary,     am I your child? Will you hold and warm me     until I am ready     for my destiny? Mary,     am I your sister? Mary,     where are you? Have you found your ground     beyond the swirl of history,     cascading quantum images     others painted for you;     have you made a place     to be your self? Mary,     show me.

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