from Quattro Marias by Karen Dubert
I am happy to share the poetry of my gifted sister-in-law. Follow her blog at www.kareninq.blogspot.com
There at His death: Caught in a splintered second of eternity while years stretched out—spokes of a fiery wheel—and she is immobile. Her tears the stained-glass fragments of a still-life witness.
Trapped in a gruesome drama on a shame-filled hill: incomprehensions' disbelief aghast at this muddy turn of things. (what treasure worth this dread price?)
There at His birth:
The surreal after-birth lightness in a stable must have portended the most unexpected of the shepherd-worshipped Child, warned you by prescient pain of
Grim pre-death nightness of exile from heaven. Most unexpected, indeed— and fiercer than the spikes in His hands is the Sword in your heart.
at birth, your babe at death, world's Savior
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