Monday, February 13, 2012

from glory

Her hair 
and hips and hands
curve to cup the mysteries
of God, held like a golden egg
that will hatch on the Day at Last
she will receive her face, her name, 
praises   from   the   King   Himself 
who made  her from her mother’s 
egg, painted her with the Lamb’s
own blood, and sealed her with 
the Spirit of power. The God 
of Abraham. God of Isaac.
God of Maria will raise
her hair and hips 
 and hands 
--from glory into Glory.

1 comment:

Angela said...

Did this poem end up inspiring a dream, perchance?