EASTER MORNING
His mother was at prayer;
a sword run through her heart
sharp with words remembered:
Be it done to me –
Do as he says;
Into thy hands –
It is accomplished.
The sword, on a sudden,
became a ray of light:
her son stood before her, silent,
as when at first he came to her.
“Hail Mary,” his hands said,
a smile impending on his lips -
as on hers amid tears.
“Behold,” her own hands spoke,
“the handmaid of the Lord.”
©2017 by Ruth Heredia
His mother was at prayer;
a sword run through her heart
sharp with words remembered:
Be it done to me –
Do as he says;
Into thy hands –
It is accomplished.
The sword, on a sudden,
became a ray of light:
her son stood before her, silent,
as when at first he came to her.
“Hail Mary,” his hands said,
a smile impending on his lips -
as on hers amid tears.
“Behold,” her own hands spoke,
“the handmaid of the Lord.”
©2017 by Ruth Heredia
