Mary’s darkest hour

I thought myself another village girl
Who, when given Joseph as my spouse,
Had such a simple plan – to please my man,
To raise our kids and build a blessèd house.

It would have been a calmer life at least,
And one I’ve often dreamt about. And yet
The Lord intervened, gave me the task
Of bearing Immanuel. Do I regret

This choice of His? Ask me another day.
When Simeon said a sword would pierce my soul
I heard the voice of grief but did not grasp
The payment of my love’s most bitter toll.

But now as every hammer blow tears through
The flesh of my dear Son, I feel the nails
Press down deep inside and were not John
Upholding me, I think my faith would fail.

“Blessèd are you among women!” they said
And I exulted at the Lord’s rich grace.
Yet how can I recite salvation’s song
When God the Father turns away His face?

20 Apr 25