Mary’s Poem
By Kathleen Wakefield
Submitted by The Rev. Anne Hunter Kelsey, Priest Associate
When she heard infinity
whispered in her ear, did the flashing
scissors in her fingers fall
to the wooden floor and the spool unravel,
the spider’s sly cradle
tremble with love? Imagine
How the dry fields leaned
toward the news and she heard, for a moment,
the household of crickets –
When she answered, all things shifted, the moon
in its river of milk.
And when she wanted to pluck
her heart from her breast, did she remember
a commotion of wings, or the stirring
of dust?
