Where was Mary's mother
In all this birthing?
Was there only cousin Elizabeth,
Old and inexperienced,
To give comfort and advice?
Was there no Jewish mother
To make chicken soup,
Check how the baby lay,
As if she felt Jesus
Moving in the womb?
Was there gossip
In the neighborhood?
Did her mother
Want Mary and her bulging belly
Out of sight?
In all this birthing.
Where was Mary's mother?
© Peggy Latham, 2013
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| Detail of a pregnant Mary in a Provencal creche Photo by Guillaume Piolle from Wikimedia Commons |
5 comments:
Wonderful poem! Best wishes to Peggy and Happy Holidays to all...
Bill V.
What a wonderful poem! Hang in there, Peg!
I'm happy to see this poem here! Thanks, Peg, for sharing it.
Stephen Margulies sent the following: peggy's poem is original and strong like all her work she is the real thing. she is amazing, a glow in the dark life life life life despite age gentle and smart and a good poet when when she fell asleep next to me at one of our meetings she woke up immediately when I suggested she should read instead of me and she immediately read a good poem. it's a cliché but she is an inspiration. a number of our people have it hard I know and also much I don't know but they flare and persist, bless them... is ppoetry art or life? self indulgent or altruistic? it is word made total song total light beyond selfishness and beyond unselfishness it is and it is necessary as the divine William carlos Williams says, many people die without it tho they don't know it all kinds of poetry are needed.. arty and artless it is all frm the heart even the cold ones are from a warm heart even icy Mallarme gives warmth
super best, and love to all, petite Stephen m
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