This is the first in a planned series centred around Biblical figures whose human experiences have been marginalised. Mary is integral to the New Testament story, but is only ever known as Jesus' mother, a kind of vessel, nothing more. Historically, if she existed, she would only have been in her teens when she was suddenly selected by her God for reasons of his own. I never ever imagined her as anything other than bewildered and slightly bitter, and very human.

As a child, I recall sitting through innumerable Sunday School sessions and hearing bible stories. These poems spring from memories of my visceral responses to those stories. As an adult, I have chosen a religious path other than the liberal Christianity I was raised with, so my thoughts expressed in these pieces of writing might make a more orthodox Christian uncomfortable.

It isn't my intention to mock. I welcome all opinions in reviews, but if you want to engage in theological debate, please email me direct instead of taking up server space on ff.net.

Love and light, Tal.

BLESSED

"Hail Mary," You said.

And I knelt in greeting and bathed your feet.

Then you thrust your divinity into me

Like a fist.

All unwanted

You pounded me with your reverence and your piety

Until I was overflowing,

Aching and weeping from it.

And you said –

As you turned to go –

As you left me there kneeling on my dignity –

You said:

"Rejoice O Maiden

For you have been blessed by God."

"Full of Grace", You said,

Although I was downcast and revulsed.

I was full of something

That burned me.

All unwanted,

I didn't feel particularly graceful or lovely.

Just used up.

Full of someone else's grace,

Not my own –

Which I had lost –

Which you had taken from me –

And discarded

Like a robe

No longer in fashion.

"The Lord is With Thee," You said,

And for a while I believed you.

But I know I have been

Forgotten

All unwanted.

When I was a girl my mother told me

I was a child

Of Jehovah.

But I think –

And why Lord? –

I don't feel blessed or chosen –

That you are with

My Body

And Not with Me.

"Blessed Art Thou Amongst Women," You said,

And I asked "Why me?"

"Why my body, Lord?

Why this,

All unwanted

And nesting within me like a rat?"

You have taken

My Womb

And blessed it –

As I vomit –

As I swell ever larger –

And forgotten

To bless the rest of me

At all.

"Blessed is the Fruit of Thy Womb," You said,

And I was terrified of the future.

Blessings seldom lead to happiness

In my experience.

All unwanted,

A holy man

Falls victim to his blessings

Or rebels

Against them.

All I wanted –

All I wished for –

All I cried for in the night –

Was this:

An ordinary child

From an unblessed Mother.

"Holy Mary, Mother of God," You said

And I laughed aloud, bitter as vinegar..

Squatting in the dust and wailing,

I watched my son die,

All unwanted.

He wept for you

Called your name til he passed out

Or died.

No miracle you could offer

Short of forgetting –

Short of rewinding time –

Short of leaving me be –

Will ever make up

For giving me this son

Just to watch him die for your will.

"Pray for us sinners now, and at our deaths," You said

And I wondered what I could offer to you.

I am neither gracious nor loving,

And I hated you.

All unwanted,

I wept for him alone

Called your name until I was hoarse

And aching.

I recall when you came

And blessed me –

Cursed me –

And used my life as your own –

And you said:

"Rejoice O Maiden,

For you have been blessed by God."

Amen.