The Pieta

The Pieta (4-1-08)

Awkward and too heavy,

Sprawled across a knee too small,

Lying precariously

And ungainly.

Ready to fall again,

Even after death.

The Pieta.

What have I done? a mother asks.

What have they done to you?

Why do they hate you so?

To torture your body

And my heart and mind?

And yet the knowledge was ever there.

A sword will pierce your heart.

Did she know exactly how?

Does she look resigned to the facts

She could only have been half aware of?

One hand lies loose,

Not holding on to the prone figure.

Not cuddling, as a mother would, an infant.

Resigned she may be;

For the face knows more than the two figures show.

The broken man is broken only in body.

His spirit lives

And sets us free.

She knows this but still her heart is heavy

For the child and the man –

The physical being she has lost –

Only to return ,

Physically and spiritually,

In glory and splendour.

Her honour –

An assumption into heaven-

Without death.

Having carried the one

Who carried

The burdens of the world

She sits in glory.

With the Father

And the Son

And the Holy Spirit.

From Whence I Came

In a moment

I will be accepted

Or rejected.

I want to be affirmed

As part of the family

Of God

From whence I came.

Prior to conception

I sat in His presence

Awaiting the call

To human life.

I bring joy to the faces

Of those I call parents

But I know

From whence I came.

Baptise me now

I need the grace

To go through this earthly life.

Those who tend me

May or may not

Have the faith to build me

And make me aware

In the years when I forget

But just now I know

From whence I came.

Until the call Home

Comes

And I remember

The face of the One

I will forget.

I need His help now

For what lies ahead

Confirm my present awareness.

For when I look far away

Into the corners of rooms

And they ask sweetly if I see fairies

I wish I could tell them

And make them know

That I see the face

Of the One

From whence I came.

So please don’t deny me

My baptism of love

Because my parents have doubts.

I do not need their faith

I do not need mine

For I know

From whence I came.

(29-10-1997)