Shameful Holiness
The shame of it was nearly enough to kill her---
Not quite, of course.
There could be no flights of easiness
No rest from the voice
That told her to be proud as she was disgraced.
A child of God, she reminded herself.
It was certainly no child of his.
Her husband, almost,
Who would know, and hate her as she hated herself
As she slammed herself against the tender walls
In hope to rid herself of this burden.
In these days, before the world knew
As she did, she wished bitterly
That she had not pushed this man away
That this could be blamed on her indiscretion,
That she would not be so holy as to be chosen.
And yet something within her saw
The baby--- wanted child, dreamed of by the saints to come
And when she thought of his eyes, she could not remember
To dread the future, the nights that she would come to her husband
Longing, pleading, and he would tell her that her son---
Always hers, and sometimes God's with a bitterness that became him---
Was calling; needed her.
And on those nights before the angels told her secret she waited,
Soaking herself in the fragile night and whispering,
Hands on her still flat belly
That in the night she will run, bare feet embracing the sand as closely
As she will hold him to her and kiss the moon on her baby's forehead.
She does not run, however
But stays, and lives with her husband and his incomprehensible silence
Made of patience mingled with disappointment,
But at night, she rests her face on her son's dark head
And dreams of the day when he will restore her name
And her faith will resurrect itself.
[I often wonder what it would be like to be Mary. Seriously. Yes, yes, she was a pure, holy-ful virgin and blessedly gave birth to God's son, yada yada yada--- but really--- have you ever thought about it? Despite the fact that I'm not completely religious and don't consider myself a Christian, I've always wondered about what it would be like to be in the position of being pregnant with the Son of God. Okay, you can stop giving me weird looks and review!
Oh, also, another thing completely unrelated to this particular piece. I haven't posted anything in a long time; frankly I just got tired of FFN. I do have a fanfic that I'll probably start posting chapter by chapter after I finish it next week, but after this summer, I'm pretty much retiring from FFN. The thing is, unlike many people who come here for unconditional praise and support, I came to FFN for constructive criticism (it's a shocker.). Luckily though, I'm going to get PLENTY of that this August, as I'll be attending a residential fine arts school. It's a pretty cool school, public and sponsored by the splendiferous state of South Carolina, but audition only; really small classes; really sarcastic and critical teachers who write books and appear dressed in a barrel on the back flap… Okay, I've said too much. Now I have a mental picture, and I'm sure you do too. . Anyway, what I'm trying to say is I won't be posting much more, but I love you all in that not-really-loving way. Or not. Yeah. Okay, then.]