Storm clouds within
In an empty church I found Mary,
Her head bowed in what seemed like prayer,
But as I approached, I could see at a stroke,
She was crying and in some despair.
I at first felt my caring unwelcome,
I stopped and I tiptoed away,
But she turned and she said ‘please don’t
Leave me’, ‘I’ve a story to tell if you’ll stay’.
There’s a draught in a church of sweet flowers,
No disguising the faint smell of dust,
But beyond all the incense and candles,
There’s a scent in God’s house based on trust.
Her plight had begun in the Autumn,
Pain persisted through winter and spring,
And now on a warm day in summer, it
Poured out from the storm clouds within.
Is to give birth to a child’, ‘but I am
Ahead of myself’ she said, calming a little
And taking my hand. ‘You are a good soul’,
She continued, ‘many have passed this way
Today, but only you chose to stop and for
That I am truly grateful’.
Increasingly distant. Suddenly, the air cooled,
And through an unexpected summer chill
She went on:
There’s a place in my heart ever vacant, a
Pain that will not go away, through the
Passage of time, the pain did not subside,
It’s now two thousand years to the day’.
‘I am Mary the mother of Jesus, the one
At the foot of the cross’, ‘a mother, like
All other mothers, who weep for the
Children they’ve lost’.
© Joseph G Dawson
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