Carved out of your body
Without your permission:
A blessing, you were told.
Carry him, watch him die
And thank him for it.
You compact yourself
Into a quiet, rugged ball
So your baby can yell.
Why must you close your eyes
So that he can see?
Mary, you look so small.
Frail legs tangled together,
Curves hidden by garments
Heavy as his cross, so heavy
You do not dare stand.
Is this what you wanted?
To balance precariously upon a stone
Legs crushed, blinded –
So he could sit comfortably
For thousands of years?
Caress his feet, let him see for you,
Let him point to the sky.
Hold him above your head
And watch the world
Hallucinate his wings.
Tell me, mother –
Do you regret being so pure?