It’s my final installment of Behold Your Mother for Poetry Friday in honor of May’s celebration of Mary (the others are here, here and here). This week’s selection is apt for our Friday reflections on the Passion of Jesus, and for me, it paints the picture of how the Mother of Jesus was there, holding up the others, even as she must have been suffering intensely herself. The title “Queen” is heavy on her, I think, and the price she paid, she paid through her Son, standing there on the sidelines. As a mother, I can especially relate to the image of agony she must have felt, watching her child suffer.
Queen of the Apostles
The strange bitter chill sank into their bones.
Peter came from the Garden to find her waiting. “They took him away.”
Mutely she nodded, her mind mercifully refusing to think.
“What now, Peter?” “I’m going to follow.
Jesus would not let us defend him tonight,
But tomorrow will be here soon enough.
Stay and pray for a miracle.”
Mary tired of waiting. “Lord, let me find him.”
She found the temple court as Peter skulked away. “Peter!”
He could not look her in the eye.
“Peter, what happened?!” “I could do nothing…
I’m…I’m so sorry.”
She followed his gaze. They led Him away.
“Come, Peter. We cannot leave him now.”
A strangled cry was his soul reply.
See the rest of the Poetry Friday round-up over at Wild Rose Reader and why not consider joining in the fun? All you have to do is post a poem and leave a comment.
Next week, for those of you who might be persuaded to try participating, you’ll see the Poetry Friday crew here because I am hosting. (You’re shocked, I can tell. Me, host? I know, I know. It’s a stretch of your imagination.)
