Summary: A Poem.
Word Count: 369
She looked upon him as he lay sleeping.
His face flushed with fever.
The woman started weeping.
Why shed a tear for him?
He was not her own.
When the boy, really a man, came to them claiming
His inheritance and a name,
She shut the door on her own deep hurt
Her dead husband’s transgression to embrace his Son.
A mother he needed to shield him from life’s heat.
The hail. The scorn. The rain.
And now he lay so still, the laughter in those ocean blue eyes diminished.
An enemy’s bullet had found its mark.
A face from the past had tried to steal him away from her.
Tried but his gun would not be successful for this child is strong.
This boy she calls Son has been through many a storm, through the thick of gloom.
The infection was real. It had him in its grip. She prayed for his life not to be finished.
Night to day. Day to night.
Sleep a little, she tends to his needs. He needs a mother’s care.
Through his fevered ramblings, she comforts him with a touch.
Night to day. Day to night,
She keeps a vigil of hope that he’ll break through the dark, into the light.
“Mother?” At first, she thinks it is a dream.
“Mother.” She raises her hand to her mouth. The voice is true.
Her Son, who was out in the storm has come into view.
She rushes to him and his body she embraces.
Holding him tight, his features she traces.
“Yes my Son, Mother is here. You are out of the storms hold.”
“Sunshine is beaming down on you. My Son, you are bold.”
Though weak, his strength he will be gathering
He has come out of the rain to the warmth of healing.
Physical, emotional, spiritual.
Her presence, she is revealing.
Strength made whole by the power of love
And faith in miracles showered down from above.