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When the Angel Came to Mary Trees

The angel’s wing cast
A cool shadow across my face.
My heart raced.

Before I could move from my bed
His golden wings wrapped themselves around me
Trapping my arms and trembling legs.
I struggled but could not escape
My loins ached.
I could hardly breathe.

“Fear not,” he shouted like a scolding father.

Then the room was quiet
And still as an approaching storm.

When at last he let me go
I touched myself
And discovered that my hand
Was bathed in my first blood.

I showed him my hot red hand.

“Fear not,” his voice softer this time,
More like a lover,
“God has chosen you for his bride.”

His wings fluttered
Then he backed away
And sat upon my window ledge.

I looked down and saw
My gown was soaked in blood.
My blood.
A bride’s blood.

I was ashamed
And tried to hide.

When Jesus Came

He came before
Joseph could bring
The midwife…
Came before I could
Cry out in pain or stop
The flood of blood and
Water running down my legs.

He came like a raging river
Tearing through my body
And before I had time to think
I would soon be holding a son
A son, like the angel had said, of God,
I reached between my legs
And caught him.

He was so beautiful,
But I did not know how to hold a son of God
Or to feed a son of God
Or to clothe him,
Or teach him,
Or even what I should call him.

Call him Jesus,
Is what the angel had said.
Jesus of Nazareth.
Son of God
Born of Man
Jesus.

He was long and thin
His eyes were blue,
The few wet matted strands of hair upon his head
Were dark and curly,
He did not look at all like Joseph.
His face was small like a baby’s face,
Yet much older than mine.
His skin was the warm color of moonlit desert sand.

When Mary Left With Joseph In Shame for Bethlehem

The night was cold, yet monalisTehran

The baby growing inside of me
Was like a warm thread of light
Casting a long shadow
Over a journey set in motion
By a visit from an angel
And the marriage to a man
Who was not the father of my child.

Joseph held the donkey’s bridle
In his rough hands
He did not ask about the baby
He did not look into my tired face
Or talk about the hope for our shared life.
Instead, he walked with purpose
Leading me through the night
As false husband and wife.

I ached from his coldness
Each small step we took together
Like a slap against my face.
Silently, I counted the stars as we traveled
And wondered if the angel knew
The burden he gave me
Would come into this world
As my disgrace.