Hope and the Pieta

I’ve been waiting to post this. This blew me away last December, as it blows me away every time I read it.

Poetic Dialectic

The mother and her son enshrined in marblePieta St Patricks NYC

Mary looks down upon the lifeless body

of her son,  Jesus

Laid across her lap

Her hand holds his nail pierced hand

He is a full-grown man

But in her lap he is her child

Wounded soul with no hope for tomorrow

We know your wounds will not be healed tonight

Promises whispered by angels

The beauty of the star, the adoring wise men and their gifts

The gentleness of the shepherds and their lambs

Are a fading dream

Wounded soul with no hope for tomorrow

We know your wounds will not be healed tonight

Weddings and wine

Crowds fed

Healings

A promise to return

Wounded souls with no hope for tomorrow

We know your wounds will not be healed tonight

In the cold lonely grave

Hope was reborn

Wounded souls there IS hope for tomorrow

Your wounds WILL be healed tonight!

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